Bitten
by Luna-is-Loony
Summary: Harry's finally figured out how to lead a normal life when he gets turned into a vampire. To make matters worse, his mate turns out to be none other than Draco Malfoy...
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: Bitten

**Rating**: NC-17 (for later chapters)

**Warnings**: Vampire!Harry, smut (again, in later chapters), cursing

**Summary**: Harry's finally figured out how to lead a normal life when he gets turned into a vampire. To make matters worse, his mate turns out to be none other than Draco Malfoy...

**Author's Note**: A few of you who follow me on Twitter might know this from the first five chapters I posted ages ago on Livejournal. I asked a friend to beta, but he's been really busy, and I didn't want to pressure him. So, I've just gone ahead and posted the first chapter.

Chapter One

Harry's legs barely touched the floor, and he leaned most of his weight onto the counter. All around him, voices melted together, filling the pub with a pleasant buzz. As he shifted uncomfortably, he was reminded why he usually didn't wear leather pants. Quickly, he grabbed his cup and chugged what was left of his Firewhiskey. The substance burned in his throat, and his eyes screwed shut. It was his third mug, and when he stood up, he had to steady himself. A drunken smile spread across his face, and he hobbled over to Ron and Hermione. The latter was rather unsuccessfully trying to convince the ginger to dance.

"But 'Mione, I don't want to. I'll look ridiculous." He stubbornly remained sitting, while his girlfriend glared at him.

"Most of the people here are drunk. They won't care if you look ridiculous, and if they do, they certainly won't remember it." She scowled before looking up at Harry and smiling. "Hello." Harry's feet gave way a little, and he grabbed onto Hermione to steady himself.

"Sorry, 'bout that," Harry slurred.

"Mate, don't you think you should take it a little easy on the drinks?" Ron asked.

"Why would I want t' do that?"

"This is the third time this week he's gotten drunk out of his mind," Hermione muttered to herself as if Harry wasn't standing right next to her.

"I can't help it. I had t' listen t' Seamus talk about blokes he's been shaggin'. I don't know how he finds all these people. And I mean, what good is it being famous if I can't get –"

"Alright, I get it. Merlin, he needs a good shag." Ron shook his head and sighed. Harry nodded in agreement and stumbled off toward the bar again. He had trouble trying not to run into everyone on the dance floor, and mumbled apologies here and there. A hand tapped him on the shoulder, and Harry turned around to see a girl with straightened black hair beaming broadly at him. She stretched out her hand.

"Hey, I'm Alex." She tossed her hair and leaned forward. Although Harry did not shake her hand, the girl didn't seem to be put off, and continued. "No need to ask who you are, eh?"

"Err…"

"Rumour has it you're single."

"Well, I –" Harry ran his fingers through his hair.

"Me too."

"Bu –" She placed a finger on his lips, and Harry lost balance, falling against her. She battered her eyelashes, and he quickly pulled back.

"I just thought that you looked lonely, and maybe you could use a little pick me up." She winked and giggled, and a pink tinge was barely visible on Harry's face. "My place or yours," she whispered, leaning forward. Harry tried to say something, but her lips were moving fast towards his. With alcohol in his system, he couldn't seem to be moving out of the way, and he was wondering how in the world he was going to explain to her that he wouldn't ever go with her –

"Hey, there, Harry! I've been looking for you. You seemed to run off. I guess Luna and I just bored you talking about clothes and whatnot." Ginny leaped forward, chuckling while wrapping her arms around Harry's neck and planting a kiss on his cheek. Her eyes narrowed and she gave a warning glare to the girl.

"Oh, I didn't know you were –" A blush settled across Alex's cheeks, and she awkwardly shuffled her feet. "They said you had broken up. I guess not." Ginny's arms tightened around Harry, and the other girl walked away, looking embarrassed.

"Thanks, Gin."

"Honestly, you need to learn to speak up. I can't come in having to pretend I'm your girlfriend all the time. What are you going to do if I'm not there?" Ginny's arms dropped to her side and she smiled good-naturedly at her ex-boyfriend.

"Well, I'll just tell 'em to bugger off," he said, waving around and losing his balance.

"Drunk again, are we?"

"Mm," was his only reply.

"Look, take initiative. Ask someone out. I'm sure he won't be able to turn you down. Well, I mean, unless he's straight. But you need to try it, Harry."

"Bu' I don't even know what t' say." He looked at the girl and sighed, nervously pulling through his hair again. At least Alex seemed to be nowhere in sight. If that girl had seen how Ginny had backed off right away, she might have realized and tried coming back for a second shot at him.

"Just be yourself. Come on, who wouldn't love you?"

"Plenty o' people don't like me," he muttered.

"Well, you saved the world. That has to count for something."

"Oh, stop it. I hate it when people start callin' me the Chosen One. Complete tripe. I was jus' lucky, that's all."

"You're too modest. Anyone would be lucky to have you." She smiled widely and looked behind her. "And stop listening to Seamus. You're only depressing yourself. I have to go, Neville's waving me over." She placed another kiss on his cheek and walked away, shaking her hips in rhythm to the song.

Harry sighed and made his way over to the counter again, sitting down and staring sullenly at all the couples on the dance floor. He had loved Ginny, but as nothing more than a sister. Going out with her had been the same as going out with Cho. He had felt nothing when they kissed other than slightly uncomfortable. When he explained to Ginny, she had been incredibly understanding, and had encouraged Harry to come out. As it turned out, she had been having doubts about their relationship as well. Altogether, the break up had been nice and easy for both of them, and they remained close friends. Within a matter of months, Ginny had started going out with Dean Thomas again, and the two seemed happy. They had been going out for two years now. Harry was happy for them, but it sometimes seemed like all of his friends had someone.

"Another one, dearie?" Harry turned around to see the lady behind the bar looking at him with kind eyes. He shook his head and rested his chin on his palms. Perhaps Ginny was right. Perhaps he should ask someone out. But what was he supposed to say? _'Hey, I like blokes. I've heard you like blokes, too. Want to go out with me?'_ That didn't seem like something that would go over well with the average person. Overall, asking people out was just too awkward. And if he did do it, it could wait until he could at least form a coherent sentence.

"Hello." Luna sat down on the stool next to him.

"'Lo."

"You look depressed." She looked at the bartender and added, "Red Currant Rum, please."

"Quite."

"Look on the bright side. There are no Nargles floating around here. At least, none that I've seen." This managed to at least put a slight smile on Harry's face. Some things never would change. "Rolf and I are going to go looking for Crumple-Horned Snorkacks next month." The smile vanished. Even Luna Lovegood had a steady boyfriend for the last six months. And here he was, single and a virgin. He hadn't even kissed anyone in over three years! Seamus' stories rattled around in his head and he winced.

"Sounds like fun." Harry sounded far from happy for her.

"Don't worry, Harry. You'll get a boyfriend soon enough." She always seemed to know what was on his mind.

"Right, and the bloody Pope is workin' for the Minister."

"You've heard about that, too?" Harry blinked several times, not sure what to reply. "And ignore Seamus." She placed a few coins down on the counter as the drink was handed to her and took a sip.

"Wha' has he got, a Nargle in his brain, or somthin'?" Luna shook her head and stood up.

"A Wrackspurt." With that, she pranced away.

"I'm never going to get a boyfriend," Harry pronounced to no one in particular.

"Not with that attitude, dearie. This one's on the house." She placed another mug of Firewhiskey in front of him. He was drunk enough as it was, how bad could another one be? It couldn't get much worse, could it? And if he ended up passing out, Hermione and Ron would always take care of him. With that thought, Harry grabbed it and chugged it down gulp by gulp. When he finally set it down, sputtering and eyes watering, he face was completely red, and his eyes had a distant look.

"You're righ'. I'm gonna go and ge' myself a boyfriend tomorrow. I'll jus' go up t' him and tell 'im, 'I'm Harry fuckin' Potter, and you're gonna go out with me if you like it 'r not.'"

"Well, I wouldn't be quite as forceful with the lad. But you're getting the – err spirit." The lady smiled at him and walked off to take someone else's order.

Harry pounded his fist on the counter and continued mumbling to himself. "I'll go ou' there. I'm a fuckin' Gryffindor. I'm not 'fraid of anything. So what if he says no. I'll go and ask 'nother one. I'll go to a bleedin' brothel if I have to." He didn't notice the stares he was getting. "I'm Harry Potter an' I'm gay an' I'm not goin' t' die a virgin!"

"I'd calm down if I were you," Hermione said, coming up from behind him. "Half the pub can hear you."

"As I said, he needs to be shagged." Ron pulled through a crowd of people and appeared next to her.

"And are you willing to do it?" Hermione asked. Both Harry and Ron opened their mouths to protest, Ron's face turning green. "I thought not. You're not helping." Harry grabbed the empty mug of what was Firewhiskey, and put it up to his lips, trying to get a few of the remaining droplets. Before he could taste anything, however, Hermione snatched it out of his hands. "You're completely drunk." She sighed.

"I wouldn't be if all the guys here weren't single. Seamus is the only guy that's ever offered t' shag me, and I don't even like 'im! 'Though, if no one else shows up, I might jus' say yes." He scowled at the mug in Hermione's hand, and then looked around to see where the bartender was. She was at the other end, chatting animatedly with a couple.

"Look, mate, I'm all for finding a guy if it shuts you up." Ron received a glare from his girlfriend. "But you're getting desperate right now, and – well – you're acting kind of mental. Just go home and sleep on it."

"Maybe I shoul' go find Seamus..." Harry's eyes started to become vacant as drunken thoughts overtook his mind.

"Listen to yourself, Harry!" Hermione shouted, and Harry jumped. "You'd regret it in the morning. You don't even like Seamus. And if you still think it's a brilliant idea in the morning when you're sober, then, fine! Go ahead. But what I'm saying is, you're drunk and you need to go home and sleep before you collapse here."

"I'm perfectly alrigh', 'Mione." Harry's words melted together, and he tried to get up. The moment his legs touched solid ground and he had nothing to support himself on, he was on a heap, sprawled out, laughing hysterically.

"Too late. I think he's gone completely mad," Ron muttered. They each grabbed one of his arms and hoisted him up. "We're going to let go. Try to stand, okay?" Their hands left him, and although Harry wobbled, he remained upright.

"See, tol' you I was fine." He smiled widely, his breath reeking of alcohol. His steps were unsteady, but he took a few experimentally, beaming wider when he didn't topple over.

"Just go home, okay. Apparate and go straight to bed. You'll have to go to work tomorrow." She took out a vial holding some amber-coloured liquid. "Take this in the morning. It's a sobering potion. I'm not going to envy the migraine you're going to have when you wake up. And be careful. Don't wander around after you leave the pub. Just straight home, alright?"

"He gets it, Hermione. Just calm down. See you, tomorrow, then." Harry nodded and tucked the vial into his pocket.

He wasn't even allowed to have any fun without his friends interrupting. Pouting, he started to make his way through the crowds, when suddenly someone seemed to appear out of thin air beside him. And it was just any someone. This someone had defined muscles visible beneath his clinging button-up. His eyes were a creamy brown that matched his hair. Maybe this night wasn't going to be so bad, Harry decided.

"I couldn't help overhearing your conversation earlier." A twinkle reached the guy's eye, and he leaned against Harry.

"Did ya?" A lopsided smile plastered itself onto Harry's face.

"I was wondering how someone like you could be single still."

"Don't know. It's a mystery." Harry sounded overly eager, but the guy just laughed.

"So, you're not only sexy, but funny as well. So, tell me, Harry –" the r's rolled off of his tongue and his eyes seemed to smoulder "– my place or yours?" What was with people being so direct today? Not that he particularly minded with this bloke... Before Harry could answer, though, another man appeared beside him. This one was taller and was equally as attractive. His clothes weren't quite to Harry's taste – the jeans and tee-shirt were casual and baggy – but that wouldn't matter if they were on the floor. Harry's lust-filled thoughts were put to an end fairly quickly, though.

"Merlin, Arthur, you're not flirting with the poor boy, now are you? Bloody tosser..." Harry looked inquiringly back and forth between the two men. "He's my boyfriend. Goes and teases every gay guy he meets, though." He gave Harry an apologetic look as Harry's face fell into a look of utter disappointment.

"I didn't even get to do anything with him, Reg. Just a kiss?"

"No!"

"You're no fun to go out with. What's the point of going clubbing if I can't have fun?"

Harry watched the couple walk away, looking even more distraught when they clasped hands and leaned together for a kiss. Soon, however, they disappeared as they were engulfed in a crowd. Sighing, Harry stumbled toward the exit.

"I'm jus' gonna go home an' go t' bed," he mumbled to himself. At least he had a new face to wank to.

The doors swung open and closed gently behind Harry as he walked out. The cold air hit him, and he shivered, wrapping his arms around himself. Wand in hand, he Apparated right outside the perimeter of his house. He had set up anti-Apparation charms with Hermione's help. It wasn't that he didn't trust most people, but he felt he could sleep better at night if he knew no one was just going to pop up at any given moment.

As he neared the house, he swore he heard a rustle in the bushes. Harry looked around, but the world wasn't too much in focus, even with his glasses on. No further sounds came, and he sighed. It was probably just some animal in the bushes. But as he pulled his keys out of his pocket, he swore he heard it move again. Just before he could turn around, a hand wrapped around his neck, holding his head in place. The other hand knocked his wand to the ground. Weakly, he tried to struggle, his heart pounding loudly against his chest. His mouth opened to yell, but no sound came out. His hands were trembling. He was in no state to fight anyone, and even sober he wouldn't know what to do.

A soft chuckle was issued from behind him. Harry kicked backward with his leg, but missed the target altogether.

"Trying to put up a fight? It's no use." The unknown man chuckled again, and this time, it was right next to Harry's ear. Some fabric brushed up against Harry's face, and a blindfold was wrapped around his eyes. Before he could reach up to pull them off, his something was wrapped around his arms as well. "Safety precautions... Not that you know me, but you'll remember my face even after..." Even after what, Harry wondered.

Before he could complain any further, there was a sharp pain in his neck. Harry silently gasped, and struggled, but the pain dulled down to a warm feeling. It was similar to the happy buzz of alcohol, only indescribably better. A moan heard by no one was released from Harry's lips, and he fell limp into the man's arms. He sucked and lapped at the skin, and Harry even felt his cock starting to twitch. Maybe it was the same guy from the pub. Maybe this was his kinky idea of a surprise. Yet somehow, even drunk, Harry felt that couldn't be it.

The man suddenly moved away, and Harry went to protest at the lack of contact, but instead felt cold skin pressed against lips. There was something wet on them, something that tasted metallic. Harry didn't know what to do, but the arm was suddenly pressed further in so that the liquid flowed down his throat. Harry swallowed it, unsure what else to do.

And then, that touch vanished, too. There was the sound of footsteps fading away, and the bounds on his arms were magically undone. Harry immediately grasped at the blindfold on his eyes, but there was a sharp crack.

"Fuck." Apparently, he could talk again. Harry grabbed his wand and stumbled inside. He was starting to feel numb all over, and it wasn't from the alcohol. As quickly as he could, he pulled himself to the bathroom. Although he tried to retch, nothing came out. Instead he only managed a weak cough. Harry covered his mouth, and stared wide-eyed at his hand as it pulled back. Blood?

Of course! It all made sense now. He had just been bitten by a vampire. And, oh, Gods, he had drank its blood. Quickly, he willed himself to throw up again, but he couldn't think, and his eyes were refusing to remain open. Darkness seemed so happy in comparison. He leaned down against the cold, tiled floor, unable to stay awake anymore.

In a giant wave, pain hit his body, and he screamed if only for a moment. And then it all went black.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note**: Just a warning - this chapter has more angst than any other. Well, almost. But it's really, really dramatic. And there's not really much humour. But, anyway, here you go. I hope you enjoy it, in any case.

Chapter Two

Even though his sleep was dreamless, Harry tossed and turned. There was a mounting pain like liquid fire and it spread writhed through all of his veins. At first, his heart seemed to freeze – it struggled to beat but eventually relented into stillness**. **It seemed to work its way like a melting block of ice. It formed a thick not, like a solid, and melted to liquid, reaching further and further. And when it got to the tips of his toes, it suddenly stopped. Only a dull ache remained where it had once felt his nerves were being flayed.

Harry opened his eyes.

He woke up feeling unusually lethargic and thirsty. It wasn't any regular thirst. Harry felt as if he hadn't drunk anything for days, weeks even. The back of his throat burned. His entire mouth was as dry as a piece of parchment. When he swallowed it only hurt more, and he shivered. Upon seeing his wand on the floor, Harry grabbed it and muttered, "Tempus." 10:45 shimmered briefly in the air before disappearing. All thoughts about his throat fell from his mind. "Shit." He was already two hours late for work.

Grabbing the vial in his pocket, he uncorked the sobering potion. A horrid smell wafted up, and he pushed it away. In fact, he didn't really have a headache now that he thought about it. Harry decided he could manage without it, and put it on the counter next to a whiskey flask-looking bottle of Armani Attitude cologne. He got to his feet, and opened the door of the bathroom.

Light flooded in, and pain shot through Harry's body. It felt like his skin was on fire, everything ached, and his muscles weakened. With a final effort, he shoved the door closed and sobbed into his hands. The pain started to ebb away, but Harry remained pressed against the floor, curled up into a ball. He wrapped his arms around his legs and rested his chin on his knees.

Last night was slowly coming back to him. There were the hands that grabbed him, the dark chuckle, the pain in his neck, followed by pleasure, and the weakness and darkness. With trembling hands, he pushed himself up off of the floor. His head tilted away, but he slowly gazed toward the mirror, swallowing painfully.

Nothing. There was absolutely nothing there. He could see every detail of the shower behind him. _Through_ him. Each dent in the tiles was clear, and yet he was gone, as if hiding under and invisibility cloak. Harry gagged, and closed his eyes, unable to look at his lack of reflection. There was no longer any doubt in his mind. He was a vampire. It was as plain and simple as that. And he would need to drink –

The moment the thought of blood burst into his mind, the pain in his throat redoubled. He felt his teeth lengthen, and slid his tongue across the tip, moaning as it cut and his own blood flowed into his mouth. He could only imagine what it would be like to bite someone else, feel real human blood flow into his mouth. He could almost feel the flesh breaking under his skin, the warm liquid spilling down his throat. He licked his lips and groaned as venom flooded his mouth.

But suddenly, the drained, dead person in his mind moulded a face. He could see Ron lifeless, and then Hermione. Bodies piled up around him, of people he cared. There was Ginny and Luna and even Seamus. Harry shivered, trying to swallow the venom, trying to curb the imaginary coppery taste which overwhelmed his taste buds. He wouldn't kill anyone. He couldn't!

Harry backed up against the wall, and slid down it. He could still see images of ripping out people's throats. He could just picture the tender flesh shredding as he clenched his teeth around a neck. The blood would sink into his mouth, overwhelm him. It would taste so fucking fantastic. But when the blood was gone, nothing would remain but a stagnant shell. Hermione and Ron – everyone dead at his touch. He couldn't allow that to happen. And behind his fear, behind the horror, there was still that thirst. Harry knew it wasn't ever going to go away.

Again, he curled his arms around his legs and gave a dry sob. This couldn't be happening. Not to him. He had been assigned tasks as an Auror before where he had killed vampires. He had _killed_ them. And now he was one. They had been told that vampires were dangerous and ruthless, not easily controlled. He could remember the training they had about staking them and dodging their attacks. Harry shivered, remembering how he had been told not to feel pity because they were soulless creatures. He had been told not to dwell on their past. That didn't matter. What did matter was that they were a threat to society, and they deserved a second death.

Yet he wasn't soulless. Of that much, Harry was sure. He was dangerous. He wasn't to be around other people. But he most certainly had a soul. He could see his friends smiling faces, and he cared – it was amazing how much he did. The bloodlust was there, and it was overwhelmingly powerful, but he wouldn't ever be able to forgive himself if he killed anyone.

Harry could only imagine the guilt. It had been bad enough after the Wizarding War. So many had died in his name, and after seeing the pile of dead bodies, Harry had retched and retched for hours, not allowing anyone to even lay a hand on his shoulder. With every person he saw crying, another weight shackled itself to his heart. Even when Lucius Malfoy had been sentenced to a year in Azkaban – the once-proud man reduced to nothing but sobs and shivers – Harry had felt as if it was somehow all due to him.

And to kill a person himself – that would be so much worse. And to know that they had lived their last few moments in complete agony... He wouldn't be able to live with himself after something like that. It was against anything he'd ever believed in. A twisted smile crossed Harry's face as he imagined himself holding a stake over his heart. Could vampires even commit suicide?

Harry managed to pull himself and he stripped himself of any clothes. What he needed right now was a cold shower. He couldn't concentrate like this. Even beneath his logic and reason _screaming_ at him that he could never hurt anyone, the thirst pulsed and grew like a hideous thing in his veins. It was beyond painful. The only way he had ever managed to clear his mind was by taking a cold shower. He wasn't sure if it would have the same effect on him now that he was a vampire, but it was at least worth a shot.

When he stepped into the cold water, he yelped. It stung him like it always did, and his eyes screwed shut. His entire body shivered madly, and even his teeth chattered as he wound his arms around himself. It was as painful to take a cold shower as it was to dip a cut in lemon juice, but at least the pain drew his mind away from other things. And he focused all his attention on it, the thirst slipping away for the time being and all worries detaching themselves and floating away like loose balloons. It was almost liberating. Or, well, it would have been if the pain from the cold water wasn't almost unbearable.

When he couldn't stand it anymore, Harry pulled out of the shower, wrapping a towel around himself. Upon looking around, he realised that he didn't have any other clothes to put on. "Shit." He sat down on the lowered toilet seat and sighed as the shivers subsided and the thirst started to flare up again.

"What do I even know about vampires?" he asked aloud. "Fuck! I spend my life devoted to killing bad guys, and now I'm one. What the hell am I supposed to do?" Angrily, he kicked out, his foot colliding with the wall. He winced in pain, and sighed. He had to try to think about this logically, if that was even possible at this point.

Harry felt a tug at his still heart. He blinked rapidly, and clenched his fists as he felt a wave of loneliness crash down upon him. It was like someone was pulling it forward, wrapping their fingers around it, preparing for tug-of-war. He felt it again, painful, shattering. There were phantom fingers tracing his jaw line, and Harry could feel non-existent lips pressing kisses against his. And the blood – he could just feel it. It would be better than anyone else's. But why...

As he remembered, Harry massaged his temples. Of course he felt this way. Vampires had mates. Or, as they had always stressed to him during his Auror training: vampires had _human_ mates. It was painful for the vampire to live without them. They could survive without them, but most vampires sought them out, anyway. The Ministry was usually alerted about a new vampire by finding a raped, drained body lying on the streets. The mate's blood was too irresistible for a vampire. And yet after a mate was killed, even by the vampire's own hands, the vampire usually went on a killing spree. Harry shuddered.

A sudden thought popped up in his head. What if his mate was a girl? The thought revolted him even if he figured that it wouldn't matter much if he found her. If he did, all he would be able to think about was her blood, her touch... Venom poured into Harry's mouth again, and he winced. That thought was too absurd. It just didn't feel right. His mate couldn't possibly be a girl. Repeating the thought over and over again to himself, Harry slid down the wall, wondering what he would actually do if he met his mate. And it could be anyone.

Leaning against the floor, Harry shut his eyes, and the next thing he knew, his thoughts were growing fainter in his head. The dream world presented itself and Harry dived in gladly, tired and ready from an escape from this hell.

When he woke up, Harry managed to pull himself up and look around. Well, it hadn't been some terrible nightmare. He was still in his bathroom, and images of ripped-open throats still clouded his mind. As he walked over to the door, he hid behind it and cautiously opened it a bit. No sunlight streamed inside. Picking up his wand, he muttered, "Tempus," again. This time 18:45 shone briefly in the air. Pulling the door the rest of the way open, he felt and unnerving surge of happiness at how dark it was. Night was good. It didn't burn. In fact, he felt stronger.

Pulling himself over to the kitchen, he set his wand on the table and walked over to the cabinets, opening a few out of habit. They were nearly empty other than a few pieces of candy, mainly chocolate frogs. As an Auror, he was so busy that he usually ate out, work sitting beside him on the table. It didn't even matter anyway. As a vampire, none of this food would be appetizing anyway. He scowled as images of what most certainly _would_ be appetizing played over and over again. His eyes lay upon an empty wine bottle, and his eyebrows rose slightly. A bead of wine still clung to the opening, though, and Harry leaned down, dashing out his tongue to lick it and moaning. That didn't taste so bad. And it _looked_ like blood.

There was suddenly the distinct sound of fire crackling, and a bump. Harry stiffened, turning to face the entrance of the kitchen. Who had gotten into his house? What was he going to do? Concentrating, he somehow managed to use wandless magic to form binds, pinning him back to the counter. Whoever it was, they probably didn't want to be eaten alive.

"Harry, mate, where are you? Are you sick? We missed you at the Ministry today."

"Ron," Harry choked out, already started to smell the blood as his friend walked closer. Venom exploded in his mouth, and all he could think about was how sweet it would taste to tear through the flesh. The blood would drip down his throat. There would be so much of it. Oh, Gods, it would be so delicious.

But it was Ron, dammit! He couldn't hurt his best mate. It was impossible to try to decide what he wanted, and before he could think about it any more, Ron's head popped through the door frame.

"Harry, what are you doing –" Ron cut off as he noticed the chains around Harry's wrists and the terrified look in his eyes. "Bloody hell, who did this? Lemme get you down." He took his wand out of his robes, and Harry's eyes widened in fear.

"No, Ron! Don't!" Ron froze, wand poised, looking at his friend curiously.

"Harry...why are your eyes red?" Harry swallowed some venom and clenched his teeth together as images of Ron, drained and ghostly flashed in his mind. "Harry?" Ron started to back away, glancing behind him.

"I was drunk yesterday." Ron shook his head.

"What does that have to do with any of this?"

"There was a vampire. I didn't realise until he grabbed me. I couldn't react in time. I didn't even know what was going on, really." He was slowly explaining, smelling Ron's fear. It was noticeable just beneath his heartbeat. He could hear Ron's heartbeat. Harry closed his eyes and exhaled sharply.

"Fuck. What are you going to do?" Ron asked the question quietly as if he didn't wish Harry to hear.

"What the hell am I supposed to do, Ron?" Harry thrashed forward as Ron tilted his neck a little, exposing it more. "If they find out, they'll have no choice but to kill me. It's standard procedure." Harry suddenly stilled, realizing what that meant. "They'll kill me..."

"They won't. They can't. You're Harry Potter," Ron babbled, looking helpless.

"It doesn't matter who I am. I'm a vampire. I'm dangerous."

"But you defeated Voldemort!"

"It doesn't matter what I did! Don't you get it, if they don't kill me, I'll kill someone else." Harry shuddered, and swallowed heavily, wincing at how dry his throat felt. He was so thirsty...

There was another sound of flaring fire, and Harry's eyes widened.

"Harry? I brought you something to eat." It was Hermione's voice now. Harry took an unsteady breath, and started coughing. Something burned. A shudder went through his body. Whatever she had cooked, it had garlic. His body trembled against the bonds and his skin tingled.

"Go away. Leave!" Harry hoarsely yelled. Hermione, probably concerned, only ran toward his voice.

"Harry, Ron, where are you? What's happened?" She stopped at the doorframe next to Ron, her mouth forming a perfect o-shape as she saw Harry, furious, eyes wide in anguish. Harry's coughs became worse as she got closer. His throat was on fire, and not from thirst. She had to get away.

"He's a – a vampire." Her eyes were wide in fear.

"Gar-lic," Harry managed to choke out, weakly collapsing against his bonds. The pain from the garlic mixed with the pain from being so close to someone so filled with blood was getting to be too much. He wouldn't be able to stay conscious much longer. Hermione seemed to belatedly realise what was happening, and dashed for the fireplace.

Even after she had left, the garlic scent still lingered slightly. But it was much better than before. Harry took a big gulp of air, eyes still slightly burning.

"I need to go to Hermione. I don't know what she's going to do, but I've never seen her look so scared, even when Voldemort was in power. We'll work something out. There has to be a cure... Something, somewhere. I won't tell anyone. We'll just tell the Ministry you're taking a spontaneous vacation or something." Ron turned to leave, but Harry spoke, so faintly Ron almost thought he had imagined it.

"Yeah, there's a cure. It's called a stake to the heart." Harry shuddered, watching with sad eyes as his best mate walked away. There was the sound of flames and a murmur of Ron's voice, and then silence.

The bonds around his arms and legs disappeared, and Harry hit the floor on all fours. Pressing his head against the floor, he heaved dry**, **miserable sobs.

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><p><strong>Tell me what you think.<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note**: So, I finished the next chapter for Seasons of Love if you're a fan of that as well. I just need to get it edited, reply to those reviews, and it'll be up. In any case, it's time to get this fanfic on its true path. So, here's chapter three.

Chapter Three

Harry whimpered as he pressed his head into a pillow. He had spent much of last night pacing back and forth around his house. At some point where logic momentarily overtook fear, he had cast a spell to block out his windows, cover them completely. No sun could seep in, even during the day. Then fear had taken over again, and until five, he curled up against his bed, tossing and turning. Even without seeing the sun, he knew it had to have been rising because as time progressed, he could barely keep his eyes open. Again, he lapsed into dreamless sleep.

It was only when the sun had perished and the moon blossomed in silver in the night sky that his eyes opened again.

The pain of his insatiable thirst was more than he ever could have imagined. Every part of his body screamed for blood. His dry throat burned with every breath. He quivered at the effort not tojust storm out of his house and grab the closest person. All he had to do was leave the house and it would be a buffet. But other than the monster within him, he knew that was the last thing he wanted. Still, as he pulled back, staring at his living room, he noticed now unusually red the wilting rose in his room was.

Before he could help himself, he had sat up, dragging his finger down the silk-soft, still red part of the flower. All he had to do was bite down on one neck. It couldn't be that bad, could it? It was just one life, nothing more. And he didn't even have to kill that person. All he would do is drink a little bit of their blood. He sharply inhaled and licked his lips crimson of the rose seemed loom with the sensual colour in a dull room of grey.

There was a sharp tap on the window and Harry jumped, pulled out of his thoughts. A brown owl stood at his windowsill, holding a letter in his beak, a small package tied around its leg. Harry hastily opened the window, stiffening as the smell of blood overwhelmed him. It wasn't as appetizing as Ron or Hermione's had been, but it was, after all, just an owl. The owl hooted softly and dropped the letter down on the couch.

As Harry slowly untied the package, he swore the owllooked at him fearfully. It seemed to furrow its feathers, and although he couldn't be sure, there seemed to be alarm in its black , it was hard to decipher any emotions in the black depths. As soon as the string fell from its foot, along with the package, the owl shot out of the window, and Harry closed it behind him. His hands shakily ripped open the envelope of the letter. A postcard of Egypt fell to the ground. Harry swooped down to pick it up, only to discover that it was blank. His nose crinkled and he stared at it in confusion.

When he unfolded the paper, he immediately recognized the neat handwriting to be Hermione's.

_Dear Harry,_

_I sorry about leaving so abruptly yesterday. I have to admit that I was shocked and I still am. I'm determined to find this vampire, although I'm not sure how I'm going to alert the Ministry of him without giving away that you're a vampire. Which brings me to my next topic, I don't plan to tell anyone about your situation. Well, other than Luna. Before you start to overreact, as I'm sure you will, just hear me out. I completely forgot – don't know how! – about inviting he__**r**__ over for dinner. We hadn't seen each other while. She immediately knew something was wrong, and she vowed not to tell Ginny, Rolf, or anyone. I told her of your condition, and she was very understanding. She mentioned a few cures that she knew of, but I wouldn't get your hopes up. She mentioned Dirigible Plums having multiple uses among other things. In any case, I wouldn't fret too much about it. I've started looking at books._

_It's fascinating the things I've already learned about vampires. I didn't know that the reason garlic hurts to breathe in so much has to do with how sensitive vampires are. They can smell everything around them, and sometimes things that have stronger smells tend to burn. Due to garlic's overpowering 'stench,' a vampire can't stand it! They also can't be around onions and rosemary. Oh, and funnily enough, they can't stand steaks either because cooked meat sickens them._

_I'm determined to find some sort of cure for you, Harry. I won't stop until I do. And as for your job, I've told Kingsley that you're going on vacation, but I think he doesn't believe me. Enclosed I've sent a postcard from Egypt. I'd write something brief on it and send it to him. It's a little suspicious for me to say you've suddenly gone on vacation. In any case, I told him that you needed a little rest and that since now you didn't have a major case to work on, you thought it was perfect timing for that sort of a thing._

_Just take care of yourself, Harry. Don't do anything rash. Oh, and open the package. It's a gift from Luna._

_Love,_

_Hermione_

As Harry set down the letter, he looked down at the package with worry written across his face. Luna would never mean to cause him harm, but the girl was so eccentric, who knew what she had sent him. As the new editor of the Quibbler, it was sure to contain the latest thing she thought could cure him. But as he broke through the seal, before he even saw it, he knew what it was. The smell hit him hard, and he tore it open to reveal a small, carefully sealed bag containing blood. There were a few other things in there and a small note. Anxiously running his tongue along the edge of his teeth, Harry read it.

_Harry,_

_I thought this may be useful. Don't worry about me. It's easy to make a blood replenishing potion. In fact, I packed you several inside. You'll need it when you go out tonight. I know you're going to hate being bottled up, so I've given you just a bit of my blood. It should ease your thirst long enough for you not to have to urge to kill everyone you walk past. Cheers!_

_Luna_

_P.S. The other package contains contacts and a set of glasses with plain glass. It would be slightly obvious if you wandered around with red eyes._

Harry smiled, and could wait no longer. He sunk his teeth into the thick, plastic wrapping, tearing small holes into the bag. As the liquid spilled into his mouth, Harry swore he had never tasted anything so delicious. Every single taste bud seemed to be lit on fire, overwhelmed with taste. The metallic taste blended together with something lighter, something so...Luna-ish. It was impossible to describe, but was a bit like copper coins mixed with moaned, squeezing the bag and licking the last remaining drops. His throat didn't hurt as much, and he could suddenly think clearly.

Harry finally stopped lapping at the empty bag and set it down on the table. He felt unexpectedly stronger,better. In fact, he was sure he wanted to go out tonight. He just had to maintain a low profile. But first, he grabbed a quill, scribbling on the back of the postcard: "I needed a break. Thanks for accepting the short notice. The pyramids are truly beautiful. Tell the other Aurors I'm sorry for disappearing, but I'm sure they'll do perfectly fine without me. Harry" It was personal, yet brief enough to seem like he had written it pressed for time. Harry smiled, and at that exact moment, the owl tapped at the window again as if it knew he needed to mail something.

Attaching the postcard to the owl, Harry grinned. The owl's feathers puffed up a little, and he immediately took off. Harry bounced over to the bathroom, contacts and contact solution in hand, wondering how he could've been so depressed and angry only minutes ago. Blood truly did work miracles on a starved vampire. Grinning, he stopped in front of the mirror, and the smile slid off of his face. How was he supposed to put these contacts in if he couldn't even see himself?This was ridiculous. They looked hard enough to put in while looking at yourself – it seemed like poking your eye repetitively.

Unceremoniously, he put the right one in his hand and tipped the contact solution bottle over. Liquid poured into the cup of his hand and he rubbed the contact around. After deeming it cleansed enough – he had only seen people do this after all – he placed it on the tip of his finger and moved it toward his eye. And blinked. Dammit.

It took thirty minutes of persistent eye poking for the right one to finally stick. It felt weird, and he blinked rapidly several times before closing his left eye and looking around the room. He smiled when everything was fully in focus. Now he only had the left eye to do.

After another twenty minutes, he was looking around the room beaming, wishing someone was there to applaud him. He felt as if someone should have been there to witness that. It had been as hard as it was for Neville to remember a Gryffindor he was proud. His eyes were a little uncomfortable from all of the prodding, but it would be worth it. He was sure he looked just like the average Harry. No one would be suspicious when he went to –

Where did he want to go to? A pub sounded nice right about now. If he couldn't have blood, some wine would at least be luckily enough, the Muggle drink was currently possible among witches and wizards. Most places did serve it. Doing a little happy dance, he strutted back to the living room and put on the other pair of glasses Luna had sent.

He wished he could see what he looked like. It struck him as an impossibility – he'd never see himself again. It wasn't that he was particularly fond of seeing himself, but it was just something he was used to. Running a hand through his hair, he sighed and plopped down on the couch. It was no use to worry about it, and quickly his mind wandered back to where he was going out.

There were pubs around Diagon Alley. A few extended into the very edges of Knockturn Alley. He was sure to find some place he wanted to go to. Now he only had to choose what to wear. There was a strange bubbling feeling inside of him. He had never been great in Divination, but he just _knew_somehow that something good was going to happen. He felt ridiculously lucky. Finally, he settled for a pair of black low-riding jeans and a wine-coloured, button-down shirt. He hadn't really worn it before. It had always seemed too formal, but now that he looked down at himself, he saw how tight it was, outlining his body. Some guy was bound to notice, right?

With that final though, he walked out of the house, just outside of the limits of the Apparation charms, but still obscured from view from any Muggles. With a loud crack, he disappeared.

Diagon Alley was lively, especially for a Monday night. People walked in groups, chatting animatedly. The lights from the open bars and restaurants as well as the street lamps cast a fire-like glow. Even alone, Harry felt at ease. He just hoped no one came up to him, gawking and trying to start a conversation. Those sort of things usually started with some girl or kid calling him her hero and mentioning that they had a poster of him in her room. How the hell was he supposed to respond to that, anyway?

He pulled through a crowd and walked into the nearest pub. The rhythmic pulsing of techno music hummed behind a slur of people's voices. It wasn't as filled as the one yesterday had been, and he made his way easily to the bar. The lady working behind the counter walked over and gave a tired smile. "What can I get you, dear?"

"I'll have a glass of red wine."

"We have a bottle of Tinto Fino. Would that work?" Harry nodded and smiled, his eyes turning to look around the room. There were no especially attractive men in site. There was one with a tan-blond hair a few feet away who was decent, but he was dancing with some girl, anyway.

The lady behind the bar walked up and placed the glass down on the counter. Harry smiled and slid over a Galleon. "Keep the change." Her smile widened, and she suddenly seemed to recognise him.

"You're Harry Potter." Harry's smile became slightly tense.

"Indeed I am."

"Rumour has it you're single."

"Well, you must have heard wrong, then," he snapped back somewhat angrily. It couldn't have been a guy who had heard that rumour. A countless number of girls had said that to him since the war ended. It was always girls.

"Oh, well, I mean, tabloids, huh? Can't trust them." Her face fell, and Harry sighed. This wasn't the way he wanted the night to go.

"Sorry, yeah, they tend to make things up." He took a sip of the wine, and he immediately relaxed. It had strong flavours of dark berries and spice, as well as a touch of smoke. And even though it wasn't blood, it still tasted absolutely amazing. Before he could help himself, he let out a small sigh of happiness. It was only when he set the glass on the counter with a small click that he opened his eyes again. The girl was still standing there, staring at him with wide eyes.

"Merlin, you really like wine, don't you?"

"Wha –" Harry blushed, and pulled his hand through his hair. "Erm, yeah." He waited for the girl to leave, but she just stood there, staring at him. It was becoming increasingly more uncomfortable. If she would say something at least...

"Are you going to take another sip?" she asked, too eagerly for Harry's taste. In response, he took another gulp, careful to keep curb his expressions. She pouted, but still waited as if he would suddenly decide to put on a show of some sort.

"I have to go," Harry muttered, more to himself than to the girl. With a final giant gulp, he drank the rest of the wine and got up, suddenly thinking that this wasn't exactly quite the brilliant idea he had thought it would be. He had been so sure it would have been a good night, but there wasn't even any attractive, single guy in site. Pulling himself by several dancing couples, he pushed open the doors and sighed.

Harry suddenly felt a tug. It was as if someone was pulling him forward. His heart seemed to buzz with electricity, and every part of him tingled. There was someone near. Someone important. And Harry was willing to bet his second life that it was his mate.

If his heart had still been beating, he was sure it would have drummed a syncopated rhythm by now. Harry pulled his way through crowds, and his smile increased as he felt himself get nearer. Merlin, whoever it was, they were close. He didn't even seem to notice when he started pulling into Knockturn Alley. The tugging led him like a compass, and with each step, the tingling in his body increased. By now he was practically running. They were somewhere just beyond this corner. He could feel it. Turning he –

Harry ran straight into someone. And not just anyone. His blood boiled, and he reached out his lips pressed against their neck. His tongue eagerly lapped at it, and underneath, he could feel their heartbeat echo into his body. Oh, Gods, he just felt so good. Harry reached out, warm, and ran his fingers through the person's hair. It was silky. Harry smiled into his mate's neck, and his hand reached lower, cupping the man's face. Every part of him hummed. Whoever it was, he was wearing cologne that smelled like pomegranates. And beneath that, his natural scent – he smelled amazing. Just from tasting his sweet skin Harry knew he'd taste thousands of times better than Luna. There was the urge to bite him, just to taste. Harry moaned at the thought. Was it even possible to resist. His teeth began to extend.

Two hands roughly pushed back, and Harry hit the opposite wall of the alley. Harry looked directly into cold, grey eyes. He knew those eyes. That platinum hair. That sneer.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, Potter?"

Malfoy.

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><p><strong>You know where the button is.<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note**: Oh hey guys. I'm trying to update regularly as you probably know. So, here's chapter four. Enjoy.

Chapter Four

"Malfoy?" Harry stared incredulously at the blond in front of him. It** c**ouldn't be true. His mate couldn't possibly be Malfoy. Harry's eyes closed, and he was glad he couldn't cry. He was going to be miserable for all of eternity because there was no way in fucking hell Malfoy would ever let Harry near him Malfoy smelled so damn good, and he could still taste him. Harry blushed as he felt his body betray him. His pants were getting rather tight. When he dared open his eyes again, Malfoy's face was crimson as well, but only out of fury.

"Who the hell did you think it was? Or were you even thinking anything? Did you just lunge at the first person who walked by without even looking? I guess I shouldn't have expected any better from you. You probably think the whole world wants you just because you're the _Chosen One_." Harry sputtered at Malfoy's words, starting to feel slightly angry himself.

"I don't think that! You know I don't give a good god damn about that whole 'Chosen One' thing."

"Sure you don't." A sneer was still twitching on his lipson his face. For the first time, Harry noticed what Malfoy was wearing**. **He had been too busy staring at his face to even notice the absolutely perfect clothes sculpted to Malfoy's body just to – Harry felt – tease him. And upon noticing, Harry's pants seemed to tighten even more. Venom rushed to his throat, and he nervously scratched the wall behind him. It was as if Malfoy had dressed like this to taunt him. He wore tight, dark jeans and a black shirt, the first few buttons undone. Harry couldn't help but notice all the little, little details suddenly. He was handsomely dressed, and even his nails were cut neatly. The only thing out of place was his hair, only recently ruffled by yours truly**. **

"I - I -" Before Harry could even form a thought, another two people came into view.

"Dray? There's no need to run ahead." As she came closer, Pansy Parkinson's face came into view. Her mouth dropped open and her lips curled into a sneer similar to Malfoy's. Zabini and Nott appeared beside her, followed by some girl who looked rather familiar. "Potter what are you doing here?" Malfoy's hand reached to his hair, and he smoothed it down quickly.

"I wasn't aware that Slytherins owned Knockturn Alley," Harry shot back, feeling increasingly uncomfortable. His hand reached to his front pocket, and he pulled out his wand, holding it loosely in his hands for the chance anything should happen.

"Own? No. I just didn't think the Golden Boy would want to spend his time here," Zabini added, his arm winding around Parkinson's waist.

"I'm starting to wonder why I saved your sorry arses," Harry said, starting to sneer himself.

"Saved our sorry arses? Please..." It came from Malfoy this time. The blond's eyes were just as cold and unforgiving, and Harry almost wished there was some sort of kind of elation hidden in there**. **Why did he have to be his mate of all people! A married, straight guy would have been less of a challenge.

"Funny, you didn't seem so full of it in the Room of Requirement," Harry muttered darkly. Malfoy's face tinged pink at the memory, and Harry's sneer lightened. Malfoy looked cute when he was embarrassed. Wait, Malfoy, cute? Harry shook his head with a heavy sigh. As the blond tucked his head down, a few strands of hair fell into his face, and Harry chuckled. As soon as the sound escaped his lips, however, he looked mortified. Fortunately, no one seemed to notice, and Parkinson merely rolled her eyes and began walking on, her arm now curling protectively over Nott as well.

"Come on, Dray, no need to waste time on a silly half-blood, even if he is the Chosen One." Draco looked up, his face rearranged into a sneer again, and his eyes narrowed. With that, he sauntered off, leaving Harry to stare after him. The moment the blond was out of view, however, Harry crumpled back against the wall.

"Fuck!" His hands clenched angrily, and he kicked at the dirt, creating a surprisingly large hole. This was just going to be miserable. Harry whimpered, and slid down. Malfoy - of all people. It could have been anyone in the whole fucking world, but it had to be that blond prat. It wasn't that Harry hadn't noticed that he was attractive before. The git was now a model, even. But that didn't make up for the fact that Harry's chances with him were smaller than the chances of Moaning Myrtle to stop complaining.

Harry sighed; he could still feel Draco's silky hair against his fingers. That memory would have to suffice. For now, at least. Harry had no clue how he was going to get another chance to do anything with the blond. Draco was sure to be wary if he ever saw him again. He wouldn't be surprised if he saw a restraining order waiting for him when he got home. Harry pulled himself up, and began to walk toward Diagon Alley, shoulders hunched forward.

The streets were still crowded and filled with cheery faces. It felt wrong that others could be so happy while his world crumbled around him. And Malfoy wasn't even his biggest problem. What was he going to do if Hermione didn't find some sort of cure? He couldn't show up as a vampire to work. Harry Potter or not, wizarding law demanded he be staked. He shuddered at the thought. How many times had he captured vampires without a single guilty thought? He had always thought of them as monsters, but now that he was one, they seemed more human than ever.

Pulling out his wand, he Apparated right outside the ward of his house, staggering a little upon landing. It was still a nice night, and he spread out on the lawn, staring up at the sky. Of course the first constellation his eyes would set on would be Draco. Harry fiddled with a piece of grass. He hadn't really thought about Malfoy too much, but the blond was certainly fit. He was all over the magazines. Malfoy had done a few shoots Harry could remember. There was that one where he had posed with the new Firebolt model. He had been wearing full Quidditch gear, but Merlin, he made it look attractive. And then there was that other one where he was wearing only jeans. He had been curled up, looking so vulnerable and gorgeous.

Harry shook his head and groaned. This was turning out to be worse than he had thought possible. If Malfoy weren't his mate, he wouldn't even remember those things. He had been perfectly happy living in separate bubbles. They hadn't talked a single time since the battle. Who would have thought this was the way they were going to be thrown together? Well, not thrown together. What was it even supposed to be called?

"Fuck," Harry muttered again. "Malfoy's my mate." Saying it aloud, Harry decided, didn't make it sound any less absurd or realistic. He barked madly, and hit head backward into the ground, only causing a slight indent into the dirt. "This is brilliant! I'm a vampire and Malfoy's my mate. Care to throw anything else at me?" His glare was aimed upward at the sky. There were only cricket chirps in response. "I'm sure you'll find something else up your sleeve soon enough," he mumbled darkly.

It wasn't long before Harry began to feel like his teeth were aching. And his stomach felt surprisingly empty. Still, stubbornly, he refused to get up. He wasn't going to let his need for blood rule him. Or, he would try his best not to, at least. He'd just have to think of something distracting. Something like Ron or Hermione or Malfoy. Malfoy. Shit. It was all one vicious circle, wasn't it?

But thinking about the blond git couldn't be any worse than thinking about blood lust, could it? As if to confirm, there was a sudden jolt of pain to his teeth. Harry gasped and reached up, pulling at them, whimpering. He could use a nice human about now. Except**,** that was all wrong. He wouldn't let it eat at him. He wouldn't! He'd just have to force himself to think of Malfoy. Apparently, nothing else would do it for him.

Closing his eyes, he tried to visualise Malfoy. Harry could picture him blushing - how adorable he had looked. The red had just spread to his neck and across his face. And then his bangs had flopped down. He had just looked so...shaggable.

"Merlin, this is a mess." He read Malfoy's face darkened in his mind, and suddenly the adorable qualities vanished until they was only red trickling down his neck. Harry moaned as he imagined licking at it, and pressing against him, wrapping his arms around his waist and pulling him closer. Malfoy would give him a half-hearted smirk, and nuzzle backward, intoxicated by the venom. Harry felt his cock twitch as he imagined Malfoy's responses when he would start nibbling, lapping, pulling his fingers through that hair.

It would be wonderful. It would be perfect...

HDHDHDHDHDHD

"Harry, get up!"

"Five more minutes," Harry mumbled, nestling his head into the grass. He had been having the most wonderful dream, and Hermione had interrupted. The specifics were starting to slip away, but he could clearly remember it involved a certain blond barely wearing any clothes. A grin formed across his face and he started to feel drowsy again. But two pairs of hands mercilessly grabbed him and pulled him to his feet. When he opened his eyes, Ron and Hermione were glaring at him. They began to drag him to the door, and he pulled himself out of their rough grips. "Lemme go. I was just taking a nap. No need to get so angry 'bout it."

"Harry, you were outside! If Ron and I hadn't had come, you would've died." Harry blinked rapidly, and his head cleared.

"What?"

"Merlin, he can't honestly be that thick..." Hermione threw her hands up and walked inside. Ron shook his head too, looking more shaken than angry.

"The sun? It comes out in three hours." As realisation began to spread, Harry's stare turned wide-eyed and frightened.

"I wasn't thinking. I -" He didn't know what to say, and just threw his arms around his friend. The smell of blood immediately overwhelmed all senses. It was so close. Harry could feel the pulse against his face. Ron felt so warm, and smelled so good. Before he could help himself, Harry stuck his tongue out, tasting Ron's skin. Merlin, it was delicious. He could instantly feel the fear spike, his heart speed up. It was so tempting. He opened his mouth, and -

Two hands pushed back roughly against him, and magic glued his arms to his sides and his legs together. Harry growled, falling to the ground and squirming. His eyes were narrowed, and he tried pulling himself forward. "Just a little taste, Ron." The ginger backed away, stuttering Hermione's name. "Come back!"

Hermione rushed out and gasped. Harry was writhing on the ground, his face contorted with an animalistic hunger. She was holding an empty glass in her hand. And barely glanced down at it before using her wand to create a small cut in her arm. As soon as she had deemed it to be enough blood, she let go of the glass, letting it levitate. Her hand fumbled with her wand, and she swayed slightly, but managed to close the wound.

"'Mione, what are you doing?" Ron rushed over, pulling out a vial. "I didn't think I even need this..." He shoved the blood-replenishing potion down his girlfriend's throat, oblivious to Harry's desperate attempts to pull himself over. With fresh blood so close to his reach, he struggled against the magical ties. It was there; he could smell it! Oh, Gods, what it would taste like...

Hermione proceeded to levitate the glass over to Harry, who crashed into it the moment it was in reach. Lapping as the blood spilled into him, covering his face. His licking and growling lessened, and eventually he stilled on the ground. Ron's face contorted into a look of upmost revulsion. Crickets chirped around them, but the night was otherwise sound for a moment.

"I'm sorry," Harry croaked. Ron's arms protectively had wrapped around Hermione. Neither of them said a word, and didn't acknowledge Harry's apology other than by staring at him missing there. The bonds eventually fell, and Harry pulled himself up, wincing as Hermione's eyes flickered with further fear.

"Your face..." she started, but abruptly cut off. A mixture of shame and confusion crossed Harry's face.

"Blood," Ron said. Harry pulled his arm up, wiping the sleeve across his mouth and wincing when it pulled back, soaked in red. He walked past his friends, and entered his house, plopping down immediately in a living room chair. After a moment or two, Ron and Hermione followed, both still reluctant. They sat down on the couch, and Harry noticed how Ron's hand reached out to steady Hermione's when it started shaking. He glanced away, and closed his eyes. The pain in his stomach had nothing to do with hunger. It was only out of revulsion.

"I'm a monster," Harry finally said. "Maybe I should just let Kingsley stake me before I actually hurt anyone."

"Don't say that, Harry," Hermione said, her voice uneven, yet comforting. "I'm trying to find something. That's actually why we came here. I actually found a reference to something." She cleared her throat before quickly adding, "It's obscure. But it means that there's a chance." Harry nodded.

"A potion?"

"Actually," Ron said, "a ritual. That's all the book mentioned."

"It said, 'Vampires only hope to redeem their souls lays in an ancient ritual,' and then it just moved on, like it was nothing important." Hermione sounded irritated. "I spent all day reading, today. Nothing else. No other reference." She sighed. "But we'll find it. It has to be written somewhere." Harry nodded again, and Hermione sighed. "I promise you we'll do it. We could defeat Voldemort. We can't let this stop us. We never gave up." Although Harry could feel her fear, the tiniest smile finally blossomed on his face.

"I know you'll find it, Hermione. I'm just worried that I'll do something rash beforehand."

"Like kill your mate?" Hermione asked. Harry was sure she only had the best of intentions, but he froze despite that at the sheer casual manner she mentioned it in. Malfoy - how would they react when he told them? "Harry?"

"Wait, do you know who your mate is?" Ron asked, excited. "Do we know him?" When he saw the painful look on Harry's face his faltered. "Her?" Harry shook his head.

"Straight, then?" Harry shrugged.

"Probably." There was a pause before Hermione repeated Ron's question. "Do we know him?" Harry looked uncertain, and then nodded a second time.

"Who?" Harry hesitated, looking frightened and reluctant to tell them.

"Malfoy." Silence struck the room. Hermione simply sat with her mouth wide open, and Ron looked as if he couldn't decide between horrified and shocked.

"Malfoy, you're joking, right?" the ginger finally squeaked.

"Do you honestly think I'd joke about something like that?"

"But Malfoy can't be your mate. You can't know that for sure. I mean, until you meet them after being turned. Plus, that's just absurd. It can't possibly be true.." His babblings finally ceased, and he stared at Harry with saucer-like eyes.

"I ran into him tonight when I was walking."

"You ran into him? And nothing happened?" Hermione sounded sceptical. "You'd have lost control if it really had been your mate..."

"Does shoving him against a wall and snogging him senseless sound enough like losing control to you?"

"You snogged Malfoy?"

"I didn't even know it was him. I just ran into him, and he was there. He smelled so good, and he - he just tasted so good." He looked up to see Ron's face turn green.

"I think I've got the picture. Sweet Godric, but Malfoy? It had to be the blond arse." Harry felt a surge of anger course threw him upon hearing Ron's insult. It wasn't that Harry disagreed. Malfoy had a nice arse. No, no, no, was an arse. But Ron didn't have the right to talk about his mate that way. He went to pull out his wand, but Hermione was quicker.

"Expelliarmus!" Harry's wand flew back, hitting the wall and bouncing off to the ground. "How thick can you be, Ron? You can't insult his mate." She gave him a disproving glare, and then smiled the best she could at Harry. It looked rather painful.

Harry groaned, and looked away, ashamed. He had stood against Ron for Malfoy. It was appalling. That blond git would be the death of him. "He's rather..." Hermione continued, but couldn't seem to think of a compliment. She just gave up, her shoulders tilting forward in defeat. "You'll be rid of this all soon enough."

"I sincerely hope so, Hermione."

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><p><strong>Don't fret; Draco will come back in chapter six again. So, what did you think?<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note**: Oh, hello again. I'm going to be busy with Seasons of Love, so I figured I'd just update this a day early before I forgot completely about it. Things start to get interesting in the next chapter, I swear. But for now, here's chapter five. In any case, enjoy the Harry angst.

Chapter Five

Harry pulled himself up, and just sat in his bed, staring at the wall. Every muscle ached, a dull thudding filling them. His jaw hurt. Not to mention how bad his teeth were… Just thinking about it – he slid back down – his fingers squeezing at them. There was a constant sharp pain, as if someone was trying to grab his mouth, compress it, and shatter his jaw.

Running his tongue over his incisors again, blood rushed inside his mouth, and he moaned at the feeling. It didn't taste quite satisfying, but he knew that a package soon had to arrive with blood in it. His was metallic and sweet, but it had such little effect on his thirst. It was like eating a single strawberry after three days of starvation. The taste was glorious – it exploded in his mouth – yet he was left almost thirstier than before, craving more.

Ron, Hermione, and Luna had decided to take turns donating blood. Harry had first refused, disgusted by the thought. They were his friends; he couldn't drink their blood! He had locked himself up in his room, refusing to do anything. A vial of blood Hermione had brought lay on the counter. In her terms it was "in case he was desperate." She said it as if it was inevitable.

Sure enough, it was.

After four days, he was left a shivering mess. A single moment longer and he had been sure he would lunge out of his house. All it would take was one bite. Or two. Fuck, he didn't even know those people. Would it be such a big deal if he was to kill a few? It would only be a handful. He could stop after two or three.

The idea of blood dripping down his throat was irresistible. He had managed to weakly pull himself up, and stumble out of the room. Harry barely had enough energy to make it to his living room, and when he did, he could smell the vial. The scent hit him like a brick wall, and stars flew behind his eyes. He attempted a half-lunge across the room, but found himself collapsing to the ground. His body shook, almost unable to support itself, and he knew he needed that blood in order to survive.

The cork popped open, and he downed the blood in a single gulp. Every taste bud sang in delight. Everything had seemed grey and suddenly bloomed into colour in that split second. The world seemed to light up, blues and greens and yellows and oranges springing up in everything around him. And reds – fuck – they were beautiful, and all over. Everything inside the room seemed to have red in it.

But that was unimportant. It didn't bother him as much has it should have. He had what he needed. The warm liquid oozed, and he licked his lips, making sure he didn't miss any spare drops. It was fucking fantastic. Harry, almost drunk from it, paused.

That had definitely been Ron's blood. Something about the taste had alerted him. It was slightly sharp and powerful, which, he wondered, how it fit Ron. Harry couldn't help but notice that it fit his personality to a certain extent. Ron never was to take things particularly lightly. When he felt a certain way, he truly felt that way. Harry was reminded of fourth year, when Ron's anger had gotten in the way of their friendship. He massaged his temple, and sighed. That hadn't had been fun.

In any case, Harry decided that it wasn't worth the risk, and gave into their wishes. If they wanted to donate their blood to him, that was fine. At least that way he was sure he wouldn't jump someone on the street. At least, it was a lot less likely that he would. And there was really no risk involved. It only made Harry feel slightly nauseous thinking about it. Other than that, any blood was good blood to his vampire instincts.

Every third day, another vial arrived. By the end of the second day, he was practically counting the seconds until the next day came. It was an insatiable thirst. He thought he might get used to it, but every time it came back just as powerfully, and when he felt that liquid slide down his throat, an unusual warmth came with it, like a glass of super-champagne.

Yet even after the blood, something still tugged inside of Harry. His fucking mate. Any ease that the blood had caused vanished within a second. Just one thought about that gorgeous blond git made him shiver. His mate – Harry still couldn't wrap his mind around it.

Still, Malfoy had been invading his dreams. Every time he woke up, Harry awoke gasping, afraid that he had – Gods forbid – actually killed Malfoy. No matter how perfect every dream started out to be – and some certainly weren't far from perfect – they always ended the same way. Malfoy would be kissing his neck, or maybe it was the other way around, and Harry would slowly sink his teeth into the first bit of flesh he could reach. It was irresistible. He would tell himself he'd only have a few gulps. Just enough to satisfy himself…

Yet it never worked out that way. The moment it hit his mouth, the animal within him broke loose and took control. No sane thoughts were possible. He would hold Malfoy down, ignoring the blond's pleas, and take mouthful after mouthful of blood. This fingers would tear at Malfoy's clothes, and then –

It was only then he would notice that Malfoy wasn't moving any more. Malfoy would continue lying still, and Harry would quickly try to do something, anything! But nothing worked… Malfoy would always be lifeless. There was nothing he could do. The monster within him would swell, and he vowed revenge, even if he knew that he was the one who had –

If he couldn't be happy, then no one could. Harry would growl, lunging out of the room.

And then wake up. He felt flushed every time, weaker, worse. And for fifteen minutes afterwards, his head would spin as he repeated to himself that Malfoy was still alive. Thinking about it was enough to make him angry. How the fuck was he going to do anything with Malfoy as his mate?

"Fuck!" Harry's hands formed fists, and he crumpled to the ground. He knew that blood wouldn't be enough after a while. If he didn't see his mate, get some sort of contact, he would deteriorate. He would be nothing. Metaphorically speaking, of course. He would still be alive, but barely so. And the pain he was sure he would feel… Weak, unable to move – it wasn't the sort of life Harry wanted to lead. But what the hell was he supposed to do?

His fingers clenched around his legs, wrapping around, squeezing them dangerously. Anger coursed through him, overwhelming him. He felt sick to his stomach, like he needed to vomit. His fingers pushed down even more tightly until –

Snap. Harry screamed out in pain as his kneecap shattered. He had grabbed it too tightly, it seemed. He screamed, as he attempted to get up. What the fuck was he supposed to do? He couldn't go to the hospital, but at the same time, he had to do something about it. Harry gasped in pain. It felt as if someone had stabbed a knife into his knee. He clutched it, and immediately pulled away.

"Shite. Fuck." Harry let his head drop back against the floor. There was the sound of something whooshing in the fireplace. Harry wasn't going to go anywhere, and he had just drank some blood, so luckily he wasn't thirsty. Still, it made him nervous every time someone came.

Hermione stumbled into the room, oblivious of Harry on the floor. "Harry!" She went into the kitchen, and Harry couldn't help but chuckle.

"Over here, Hermione." Harry sounded breathier and more in pain than he wished he did. Of course, Hermione would realise that something was apparently wrong when she saw him on the floor. Still, he felt weak somehow lying around, grimacing. The dull thud was horrible, but now that it was beginning to ease seemed simpler in comparison than his other pains. Harry winced.

Hermione gasped when she saw him, and immediately rushed over, kneeling down beside him. "Oh, Harry, what have you done?"

"My knee. It's only slightly broken." He tried to laugh, but ended up shifting his leg, and yelped. "Slightly."

"Well, at least it'll heal fast. Gods, what were you doing? How did you manage to…" She ran to the kitchen and came back with some ice. "Here, this should help with the swelling at least."

"Oh, nothing. I just gripped myself too hard." Harry's tone was bitter. "Ow, that hurts."

"Gripped yourself too hard?"

"Yes. And what do you mean by it'll heal fast? I can't even go to a hospital. Ow, fuck." He closed his eyes, and scratched slightly at the carpet. It hurt like hell.

"Well, I was reading about vampires, and they have incredible healing powers. You'll probably be fine by tomorrow." She smiled at him, and sat down on the floor. Suddenly, however, her smile wavered. Hermione attempted to rearrange her expression into a happier one, but Harry wasn't fooled.

"What?"

"You have – on your lip – it's blood." She looked away, and when she turned her head back, she had tears in her eyes. "I'm so sorry, Harry."

"Well, it's not like you had anything to do with it." Harry's face blossomed into a smile. It looked slightly stressed, but he hoped she would take comfort in it.

"No, but I could have stopped it. What was I thinking? I told you to Apparate home by yourself. You could've easily splinched as well. You were completely drunk. All I had to do was go with you, and this wouldn't have happened!" She had tears running down her face now, and her body heaved as she sobbed.

"It wasn't your fault! It's not like you knew that he was going to be here. Hermione, you were just having fun. If you knew anything was going to happen, you would have been there. Please, calm down." He leaned over, the pain visible in his face, and hugged her. The contact made him shudder and want to vomit, but he sucked it in, feeling his stomach clench and his eyes shut for a moment. It hurt to touch someone. So wrong. It wasn't Dra – Malfoy. "I promise, it's fine. Really." She didn't look reassured.

"I should have done something though… I mean, it's common knowledge. You were completely plastered." He pulled back, feeling a wave of relief wash over him, and looked her in the eyes. Sometimes he found it helped with people.

"Look, I don't blame you in the least. He would've only gotten you too had you come. Please, don't feel guilty. C'mon, this isn't the worst thing that could happen." But it was. Harry couldn't help but feel like death had to be preferable to this. He was in a state of in between, and a constant threat to everyone around him.

It wasn't that he particularly wanted to be dead, but had he been given a choice, it would have been clear.

Still, Hermione bought it, and she managed a slight smile. Sniffling, she wiped away her tears. "I'm just being silly, aren't I?"

"Yes." Harry paused. "Why did you even come here?"

"I just wanted to make sure that you got the blood. And just say hello. Gods, Harry, you must be so lonely. Stuck inside all day long."

"I could go to pubs."

"But you don't," Hermione looked at him with concern.

"Not like I can pick up guys now. What am I supposed to do? Even a light touch from someone makes me feel mental." He rubbed his temple, and sighed.

"Oh, Harry, when you hugged me –"

"It's fine. Really. Maybe you should go." Harry's head was starting to hurt, and with her leaning so closely to him this whole time, he was starting to get thirsty again.

"I – Alright, Harry." She reached out to hug him, and stopped mid-air. "Goodnight." She turned away quickly, and ran to the fireplace, but Harry still heard her sniffle.

As soon as she left, he crumpled as well, dry sobs wracking his body. He wanted nothing more than a normal life. It had seemed unlikely before, and now it was just impossible. The bloodlust was sure to drive him mad at some point.

"Wonderful. Abso-fucking-lutely wonderful!" He began to laugh, bark crazily. He sounded beyond mad. And he felt it too.

"Malfoy. What a great choice! Anything else you want to share? Is Ron going to be the one who stakes me? Maybe that would be a nice twist."

He winced, and remained facing up. His eyes fluttered shut, and his fists clenched again. Venom flooded his mouth, and images of Malfoy hovering above him flickered in his mind. The blond would lick his lips, and Harry's eyes would trace his tongue, mesmerised. Harry quietly moaned to himself before snapping out of it.

"I hate this. I hate you." He limped up, and pulled himself to the couch, stretching out yet again. His knee was already healing wonderfully. But who cared about that. If he couldn't have his mate, it wouldn't matter. That was never going to happen. Harry continued laughing hysterically, felt it bubbling forth, exploding from within him.

There was another whooshing sound from the fireplace, and Ron rushed over. "Merlin, what's going on here? Harry, where are – Are you alright?" Harry continued laughing. Had he been able to cry, he was sure he would have; he couldn't seem to stop.

"F – Fine. I'm fine." He giggled, and clutched at the fabric of his couch. "Perfectly alright. It's just Malfoy's my mate. And I can't stop thinking about him. But like that is ever going to happen. I might as well just find a stake and try to kill myself now. Can vampires even commit suicide?"

"Harry, you're not making any sense." Ron backed away slightly, looking frightened. It only made Harry laugh harder.

"Did you know that they teach us that vampires don't have their souls anymore? And I believed them. I think that's called irony."

"Yeah, it is. But you're acting really strange." Finally, Harry seemed to calm down. Seemed was an adequate way of describing. Because while Ron heaved a sigh of relief, Harry lunged at him. He grabbed him by the shoulders, and threw him down onto the couch. He looked sick for a moment, but then it passed, and his mouth moved centimetres away from Ron's face. His teeth grew out, and venom flooded his mouth. The red in his eyes seemed to glow, and he snarled dangerously. Ron tried to pull back, and a scream escaped his lips.

Harry threw him backwards, and moved away, immediately falling to the floor and clutching his knee. There it was again – that feeling like a knife was being repetitively dug into his flesh. If his knee had been healing, it was interrupted somewhere between the lunge, and Ron screaming out.

Yet Ron didn't move. He looked completely petrified. His face had turned white, and he held onto the couch stiffly. "That's what wrong with me, Ron," Harry said, panting. "I could kill you that easily, then what? I have no self-control. I'm dangerous as fuck. What am I supposed to be – overjoyed? My life is ruined."

"Don't you think you're overreacting a bit?" Ron's voice was a few octaves too high. He sounded like he hadn't been able to convince himself, even.

"Overreacting? Just a little bit. I mean, if I tell anyone, they'll only…" Suddenly Harry's voice fell from a rough scream to a mere whisper. "They'll kill me." He seemed to deflate suddenly, and looked so vulnerable. "Why did you come?"

"Hermione came back crying. I thought something might be wrong. I mean, she insisted that nothing was wrong, but you know her. I knew that if she was crying, something had to be going on. What happened?"

"She's blaming herself for everything." Harry shuddered, and took an unsteady breath.

"Oh." Regret fell upon him. "I shouldn't have come here. I should have comforted her, or something."

"Just go back to her, Ron." Harry didn't have the strength to deal with anyone anymore. He felt as if he hadn't had slept in ages. It couldn't have been more than a few hours. And his thirst was steadily increasing with Ron wandering around. The smell of his blood was starting to become noticeable.

"Are you going to be alright Harry?" Harry almost nodded automatically, but at last moment changed his mind.

"No." It was obvious Ron was unsure how to respond. He awkwardly shuffled from foot to foot as he edged closer to the fireplace.

"I don't know what to do, Harry."

"I don't know either. Just help me."

* * *

><p><strong>Bam. Tell me what you thought.<strong>


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note**: Oh, hello! Thank you all for the reviews. Here is chapter six. You guys are all ready for Draco to pop back in, I'm sure. ;)

Chapter Six

Harry awoke feeling sore, and as thirsty as ever. "Brilliant." Yet, even from the bedroom he could smell another vial sitting in the living room. Harry eagerly got up to get it, when suddenly it hit him: wasn't it a little odd for them to send him blood two days in a row? The agreement had been every third day, and it seemed odd to break that now after a week and a half of conforming.

A variety of thoughts flashed threw his head. What if they had told someone else? Or perhaps it had been forced out of them? Blood was often used to lure vampires. Their defences would be down, so it would be easy to attack. Harry decided he needed to proceed with extreme caution. The blood was too irresistible to stay away from all day. If things got too bad, he could probably take down a guy or two; there couldn't be more that fit in his house.

Cautiously, he edged out of his room. Ron seemed to be the only one sitting on his couch. Maybe that wasn't Ron after all! Maybe it was someone using Polyjuice Potion. Harry crept out quietly, his lips pulling back into a snarl already. Yet, at that exact moment, Ron looked over. He simply waved friendlily at Harry, smiling.

"It's Luna's blood," he said, gesturing toward the vial that lay perched on Harry's desk. As if it were somehow normal that he would be here, waiting for Harry to get up with another vial of blood…

"How long was I asleep for?" Harry asked.

"Over twelve hours for sure. Not too long, though, I guess. I don't really know." Harry paused. Was Ron joking around? There was no way they would waste their own blood every day on him. And, yet, his nose distinguished it to be, quite clearly, Luna's blood.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't it be?" Ron smiled overly cheerily. After what had happened last night, the reaction shocked Harry, and he paused again.

"Last night…?"

"It was silly. But just drink the blood now." Ron sounded as if he was anxious to see it. Something was off here. Ron was up to something. But clearly he wasn't going to find out what until he drank the blood. He sauntered over, and pulled out the pop with ease. The squelch before the pop made Ron wince slightly, and he looked down at the red in the vial, yet he quickly recovered.

"Are you alright?"

"Just drink it, Harry. You need your strength." Still eyeing Ron, he took a gulp of the blood. It didn't seem to be defective or anything. It was just like any other time. Harry felt immensely stronger, and he sighed contently. His stomach bubbled up, and he finally smiled again. A zingy, odd aftertaste lingered in his mouth, and a slight smile curled up upon his lips. It was quite like Luna, indeed. Each time he drank, he saw it more and more clearly. Blood taste clearly was linked to personality.

"Good, well, you seem to have perfect timing," Ron muttered. Harry was about to ask for what, but then he heard the fireplace roar. Someone else was –

Oh, Gods, it was him. Draco. No, Malfoy. Harry fell backwards, horrified. What was he going to do? That smell was so familiar. If the blond git actually showed his face, he'd have no self-control, would he? Harry backed up against a wall, and held his breath. Still, he knew Malfoy was coming closer. Harry trembled, and his skin prickled. Even holding his breath, someone, his throat went dry, and he sputtered, leaning towards the wall for support as he breathed in.

And then he saw him – drop-dead gorgeous, as always. His hair was meticulously done in a style to make it seem just the right accent of messy. And his pants sinfully clung to his legs. Harry gasped and hissed, his fingers digging small marks into the wall. Malfoy was beyond anything. He just looked so shaggable. So delicious. Never had Harry wanted to attack someone more quite like that.

"Fuck…" Harry's eyes closed, and he moaned as the scent hit his breath. Behind the smell of hair gel and shampoo, Draco smelled a bit like jasmine and lavender. Harry gasped, trying to push away the thought of what his mouth would taste like. And he was just a step away.

"Ron, why?" Harry asked, beginning to slide down the wall. It was taking a considerable amount of effort to not just run away. Or at Draco for that matter.

"You didn't even tell him? I should have guessed you'd leave it up to me to explain everything. I thought you Gryffindors were supposed to have courage." They had planned this together? This didn't make sense. Still, Harry couldn't help but notice that Malfoy's foot tapped impatiently at the floor, and he sighed tersely. He wasn't particularly fond of being here.

"We do have courage. I just wanted this to be a surprise. You're not going to fall through with this, are you?" Ron asked. They talked as if Harry wasn't in the room.

"I may be beyond your standards, but I don't often lie. Well, it depends about what, actually. And I'm also not one to change my mind so easily on things. I'd rather not be here, but I didn't have much choice in the matter, now did I?"

Harry pulled back, whispering in a raspy voice, "Would someone care to tell me what is going on here? Why the fuck is Malfoy in my house?" Harry began to cough as he held his breath. It was much easier, when the irresistible waft of Draco wasn't merely a step or two away.

"You can hardly call this a house. And Weasley sent me an owl earlier, and told me that he needed me." Malfoy shrugged his shoulders as if it were a simple story. Harry couldn't believe he was talking this so seriously. Fuck, he was so close. All Harry could do was bite back a whimper.

Finally, Draco's smirk turned down to a scowl again. "At least hurry up. I don't have time for this." Malfoy sneered at Weasley, and shook his head. "This doesn't mean I like you any better than I did before, Potter."

"What doesn't?" Harry practically threw his hands up in the air, screaming it. "If you would at least explain to me what the hell you're doing here…"

"Weasley told me that you're a vampire." If Harry could blush, now would have been the most likely moment. "And he also told me that I'm your mate." For a moment, all Harry could do was stand statue-like and stare. Malfoy _knew _he was a vampire? Fear flashed through him; this was bound to end with a stake in the heart. There was no way in hell Malfoy would just let it slide that Harry was a vampire. Was there?

"You did what, Ron?" Harry spoke at a growling whisper, and Ron took a step back for precaution. "And why the fuck would you do that?" Malfoy's sneer became more defined, and rolled his eyes.

"Honestly, you're making me wonder what I'm doing here. I have to go to a photo-shoot in half an hour. If you decide to let that Golden Boy personality drop, send me an owl or have Weasley Floo me." He began to walk away, but Ron stopped him, grabbing his arm. Malfoy shook it off, and looked like he was about to yell, but Harry again interrupted.

"Just someone say why, please." He pressed himself up against the wall, attempting to resist the urge to lunge at Ron. He had touched his mate. It was his fucking mate. No one else was supposed to touch Dra – Malfoy. No one.

"I was afraid you were going to hurt yourself. You looked so vulnerable yesterday, Harry," Ron muttered, looking down at his feet. "Hermione and I decided it might be best if we asked Malfoy for help. Believe me, I didn't particularly fancy it. He is a slimy git…"

"I'm still in the room, Weasley. Watch your tongue." Malfoy's eyes narrowed, and his hand twitched above his pocket. But soon it relaxed. "I'm not used to restraining myself. Consider that your warning."

"Yes, well, anyway," Ron continued, ignoring Malfoy's threats, "I thought that maybe Malfoy could help you."

"When I get staked, it'll be on your conscious." Harry glared at Ron, his entire body trembling. What was he thinking? Malfoy couldn't be trusted with this. He would probably go to the Ministry and tell the moment he got a chance. Harry curled up, and he seemed to deflate in front of their eyes.

"Do you honestly have such little faith in me, Potter?" Malfoy stepped forward, and Harry's breath hitched. He was so close, and he smelled so good. The venom flooding into his mouth was painful to swallow at this point.

"Did you ever give me a reason to trust you?" Harry's voice was raspy. When he looked up, he didn't fail to notice Malfoy flinching. "Does the red bother you?" His chuckle was dark.

"I don't like you Potter, but that doesn't mean I want to let you die."

"Aren't you afraid I'm going to kill you?" Harry barely whispered it, and Malfoy paused. "Maybe I'm a threat to everyone. Wouldn't it be better to turn me in?"

"Weasley promised you weren't dangerous. And I have my wand."

"That won't be enough if I actually want to kill you."

"Are you trying to make me turn you into the Ministry? I don't really have time to deal with a suicidal vampire." The words wrapped around Harry like a blanket soaked in cold water. Pressing further against the wall, he made a whimpering sort of sound. "I thought not."

"I need to get going," Ron said, looking apologetically at them. "I hope you don't mind. But I promised Hermione I'd meet up at a pub fifteen minutes ago." Harry waved and muttered goodbye, while Malfoy leaned back into the couch. Harry's eyes immediately were pasted to him. He leaned back and relaxed, his legs spread out almost suggestively. His eyes fluttered shut, and it was obvious that he was tired. Harry moved forward, wanting nothing more than to hold him or stroke his hair or _anything_.

"What do you think you're doing, Potter?" He didn't even open his eyes when he said it.

"I'm just – What are you doing here, really, Malfoy?" Malfoy sighed.

"Honestly, I just want to help you."

"Are you only doing this to be silly about repaying that life debt from the Room of Requirement?" There had to be some motive, didn't there? And a life debt could have been considered serious business. There had to be a driving factor. Harry almost felt sure of it. Yet Malfoy seemed to read into him.

"It has nothing to do with that. If anything, you had repaid a debt to me. And believe it or not, I'm doing it out of the _kindness _of my heart." He scowled, and his eyes opened as he levelly looked at Harry yet again.

"I repaid you? You're mental."

"If I recall correctly, you almost killed me sixth year." Harry's jaw fell open. He hadn't even thought of that. But, true enough, had Snape not gotten there fast enough, Draco would have been –

Malfoy. It was Malfoy, not Draco. Mate or not, it didn't change anything. At least he wished it didn't.

"I'm sorry…" Harry mumbled. Malfoy smirked.

"Well, then. Glad we've settled that." Harry began to approach him cautiously, but stopped as Malfoy began speaking again. "But let me set out a few rules, first."

"Rules?"

"I'm not planning to let you snog me." He chuckled as Harry's face fell. What was the point of Malfoy even coming here if he wasn't going to let him do anything worthwhile? Harry went to sit back down, but Malfoy continued yet again. "You can touch me, bu – For Merlin's sake, Potter, get your mind out of the gutter, and wipe that ridiculous smirk off your face." The blond blushed a little, but quickly calmed down again, scowling a little as Harry refused to stop smirking. "I mean hold hands. The touch should be enough."

"You'd let me…" The look on Harry's face spoke of incomprehension, even confusion.

"I didn't come here to taunt you, Potter. Even I don't particularly fancy the Golden Boy dead. Now could you hurry up? I actually have to leave soon – photo-shoot and all." His foot impatiently tapped at the floor, and Harry moved over tentatively.

"I don't want to hurt you."

"Merlin, I really don't see where the courageous aspect of Gryffindor house comes from." He rolled his eyes, and waited. Harry sat down beside him and gasped.

Just this close was almost good enough. He could feel a sort of radiation. A low moan escaped his mouth, and he absorbed the waves of _DracoDracoDraco _that washed over him. Those spices, and that smell – so much like him – attacked his nose. Harry wet his lips, and swallowed the venom. It painfully went down, like a knot in his throat, and his breath remained uneven.

Tentatively, he leaned over, and placed his hand atop Draco's, and it was as if the world had been thrown off balance. Gravity ceased to exist. He flew so quickly that time went in reverse. It was better than the warm buzz of Felix Felicis, and he still felt invincible. Harry's head leaned back, and he grabbed onto Draco's hand, almost crushing it. There was a squeak of protest that Harry promptly ignored. Drawn-out moans flew from Harry's lips, and he slid down the couch slowly.

And felt like he was doused in cold water. Draco snatched his hand away, his cheeks a deep shade of red. "I feel like I'm being sexually molested." He pushed himself off of the couch and immediately took several steps back. "I – What the hell, Potter?"

It was almost impossible to breathe. Harry doubled over, and gripped onto the couch. Fuck, he wanted to pin down Draco so badly. All it would take would be one leap. Harry could hear his heartbeat, and could tell how anxious and frightened it was. Its beat seemed double the speed it should have been, and the slight tremble of his hands even remained in Harry's attention.

All he needed to do was move. Harry began to draw himself back, ready to spring, his teeth already elongated and ready to slice through Malfoy's flesh. It would be warm and delicious. He could already picture the red _drip drip dripping _down his face. His leg muscles tensed as he drew himself up, and –

BAM.

Malfoy's arm flew up quickly, and chains sprung out of the tip of his wand and flew across the room, pinning Harry to the wall. "Just one bite, Malfoy," Harry growled. Malfoy was beginning to irk him. All he wanted was a simple taste. But even a touch of their hands had been too much for the prick.

"Back to Malfoy, is it? At least that…" Apparently Harry had been saying some of his thoughts aloud. "I have to go. I'll owl Weasley to unchain you or something. I –" He looked flustered. "I need to go." Harry struggled against the chains, but couldn't break through. Had they been simple steel it might have been possible. But magic itself was unbreakable without a spell. And seeing as his hands were chained to the wall, it was a bit difficult to cast a spell.

Harry screamed in frustration, and his eyes traced Malfoy as he walked out of the room. The familiar _woosh _of the fireplace indicated Malfoy's departure, and Harry after a moment or two more of violent struggle, slumped against his bounds.

It wasn't until four hours later that Ron came and let him loose from the wall. The moment he fell from his bounds, he realised how tired he was. He fell on to the floor on all fours, and had the strangest desire to just curl up and sleep there. His bed seemed far away. Yet Harry picked himself up, and brushed his clothes off.

"It didn't end so well, then, I'm guessing," Ron asked, looking slightly apologetic.

"No, I almost attacked him. As long as he doesn't go to the Ministry with that, I'm fine. It could have been worse, though. Thank you, Ron." The ginger smiled slightly, but continued looking worriedly at Harry.

"You sure you're alright? Malfoy just pinned you to the wall for four hours."

"Really? I didn't notice, Ron?" Harry laughed, and he could feel Ron's muscles relax beside him.

"You're acting like your old self."

"Well, plus bloodlust, I'd say. But, I feel better."

Better was an understatement at this point. Harry's head hadn't had been clearly in weeks. Everything seemed in focus, and the idea of blood wasn't as desperately wonderful as it had been before. In fact, he felt almost normal. His jaw didn't ache, and his teeth remained as insensitive as a human's. Well, almost. There was no venom in his mouth, and even with Ron standing less than a metre away from him, he didn't feel fear of an attack. In fact, it was almost safe to say that Harry hadn't had felt this good since he had been bitten.

It seemed like things were finally turning for the better. Maybe there was even hope.

* * *

><p><strong>Yay for less angst! Although, the angst isn't gone for good, lemme tell you... Tell me what you thought!<strong>


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note**: Here you go. Have an update. Also, in exciting news, my first day of senior year was today. Whoo!

Chapter Seven

Harry awoke feeling normal. Hell, he could almost forget the bloodlust. Almost. It wasn't noticeable unless he thought about it. He felt strong for once. With ease and energy he pulled himself from his bed and sprung up into action. His bounds across the room were unusually springy and he felt light.

There was no use in worrying about what had happened with Malfoy. In fact, it was the best thing that had happened to him since being bitten. Harry decided he might as well enjoy it while he could.

Actually, he felt like celebrating. It sounded like clubbing would be fun, and it had been a while since he had gone with just Ron and Hermione. Harry cheerfully walked over to the bathroom. He almost didn't notice his lack of reflection in the mirror, but rather popped in his contacts with ease, humming some made-up melody.

His clothes were more difficult to deal with, though. Harry spent a good deal looking through his closet and sighing. He really hadn't had time to go looking for clothes. He bought what was available and comfortable, as well as in the first line of racks. So, when he found an old pine-coloured button-up, he couldn't help but smile. It would work well with the dark jeans he had picked out.

These thoughts froze in their tracks as Harry shrunk a little. A blush would have accompanied the gesture as well had it been at all possible. He felt oddly flamboyant. He was more of a throw-whatever-on kind of guy. The messy hair had always been the final touch.

But he just felt so damn bubbly. It was as if this was some sort of special occasion. And it kind of was. It screamed, "Congrats on not killing anyone and acting decently normal." Well, something like that, anyway... Harry entertained himself with the thought of some such award being given to him. Of course, it was just a silly, little thought.

It was finally when Harry leaped into the fireplace, Floo powder sifting through his fingers, that Harry took a calming breath. When the warmth and movement halted, he looked up to find Ron jumping up and yelling. "Blimey Harry, you scared me!" Harry stepped out and merely grinned. "It's a good thing we cleaned out all the garlic earlier today," Ron added, strolling across the room and falling lazily back on a couch. "'Mione thought you might pop by."

"I didn't really think of that. Guess it's good she did. She really thinks of everything, doesn't she?" Harry asked, carefully sitting down on a nearby sofa.

"She tries to," Hermione said from the doorframe. "Ready to go clubbing, are you?"

"I can see you are." Hermione wore a simple short dress, and silver earrings dangled from her ears, the leaf patterns glinting from the room's lighting.

"Well, we guessed you would come." She laughed as she looked at Ron. "I see you made a noble _attempt_ to fix your shirt." Ron mumbled something, but Hermione only interrupted him. "Let me do this." She lifted her wand, and all the wrinkles in Ron's shirt disappeared. His open mouth transformed into a grin, and he got up to hug Hermione.

"You really have a spell for everything." As their lips slightly brushed together, Harry couldn't help but feel slightly jealous. Their relationship was so simple. They always had potential to be together, all it took was a little push and a few years to realise it, and they had set off. As for any potential with Draco...

Harry shook his head and smiled. Malfoy was willing to help him, and for now that was all that mattered. It was more than he had expected a few days ago. It would just have to do.

"Impatient, Harry? I'm glad to finally see you in a good mood. I think Ron might have gone insane if he had to listen to another moment about Mal –" She cut off and gave a high-pitched, false laugh. "Well, anyway."

They set off and Apparated into a London street. Harry was unfamiliar with where they were, but he was sure the pub was going to be fine. When he turned around, he immediately saw where they were going. The red neon lights flashed, and a line curved around the corner of the building. It certainly looked impressive and popular.

"Vogue, London's new hotspot, complete with a coconut Firewhiskey waterfall and the finest show of night time dancers. Great dance music and unlimited alcohol for only ten Galleons," Hermione recited as if the magazine lay splayed out in front of her. Some things never changed. Whether it was a textbook or a magazine, Hermione was sure to know it word-for-word. Harry couldn't help but smile. Ron, on the other hand, rubbed his temples and sighed.

"'Mione, it's okay if you don't memorise everything. You know that, right?" Hermione playfully glared at him before skipping off to the end of the line. It was, unfortunately, fairly long, although much quicker than any Muggle ones. A simple spell could determine if you were under seventeen. It was rather like the age line around the Goblet of Fire. Of course, as proven with that, these things weren't always foolproof. Luckily it was a bit less dangerous to get drunk than to participate in the Triwizard Tournament. That was, if a psychopathic vampire didn't decide to go after you while you were drunk. Harry scowled.

When they finally entered, the blasting techno music resonated around them, and people everywhere flailed like semi-epileptic squirrels. Drunk wizards and Muggles alike danced like idiots. And both were amusing to watch. Harry popped himself to the counter and grinned. "I'll have red wine. Whichever's your strongest, please."

"Not an order we get around here often," the barman said, handing him a glass brimming with the thick red liquid. When their fingers brushed, Harry shivered slightly, feeling that cold, unpleasant feeling slightly hit for a brief second. The barman must have mistook its meaning, however, because he gave a cunning smile and winked. "Green suits you." Harry opened his mouth to say something, but a glint of light caught his eye. A gold band glinted on the man's ring finger.

"Sorry, married men aren't really my type." The guy's face started turning red, but his jaw dropped.

"Holy fu – You're Harry Potter. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean t- to..." The guy trailed off, his sudden stutter amusing.

"Am I really?"

"I couldn't tell. Without your glasses on, you looked like someone else. Fuck... I – I'll just mind my own business. If there's any way you can pretend that didn't happen?"

"Wait, what?" Harry's hand reached up to his face. He wasn't wearing any glasses.

"Did you just put contacts on to trick people?"

"Yeah, when I put them on I had you specifically in mind," Harry muttered sarcastically, running off to find Ron and Hermione. They weren't that far off, but Hermione slid up and down against a rather pink-faced Ron. Harry couldn't help but chuckle. Ron's mouth gaped, and he awkwardly moved from side to side.

"Why didn't you tell me I wasn't wearing glasses?" he asked, looking around the club as if someone would call him out as if it were some terrible crime.

"Oh, well, we thought it was part of your outfit, Harry. At least, I did," Hermione said, looking slightly surprised by the interruption.

"I did too, mate. You look different. You had a new shirt and pants, so I thought it was just completing the look or something." He shrugged, and sighed as Hermione sat down. Apparently the grind-time was over.

"Oh..." There was no response Harry could really think of, so he quickly changed subject. "Anyway, figures that someone would flirt with me only _after_ I was incapable of going out with anyone. Not that he was my type, anyway."

"The barman – I thought he was kind of cute. Although, everyone must dim compared to your mate, Harry," Hermione said, grabbing the glass she had set down and taking a sip of Firewhiskey. She said it so matter-of-factly.

"No, not my type in the 'Hey, I'm married,' kind of way. He still had his wedding ring on." Hermione burst out laughing, and Ron merely raised his eyebrows.

"Figures..." He muttered.

Their conversation dwindled quickly. It was nearly impossible to talk over the booming music, and screaming made their throats raw. So, they resorted back to dancing. Harry felt much more at ease with the knowledge that he didn't have to try to impress anyone. His dancing was a lot more rhythmic and decent in comparison to previous times. And when someone occasionally did bump into him, as was inevitable in a club, he felt a brief cold flash every time. It was actually manageable. It was also amusing to see Ron's dancing degrade with each new glass he had. Hermione and Harry would occasionally share a look and laugh, but not much else eventful happened. It was just relaxing.

It was past two before either Ron or Hermione started to become tired. They began to swing more to the beat, Ron happy mumbling to himself. Even Hermione would occasionally giggle in a manner uncharacteristic to her usual self. Of course, Harry knew she was a giggly drunk, and decided finally it was enough when she actually knocked Ron over. She had run into him, giggling hysterically, and only continued, her face turning red, when she saw him sprawled out on the floor.

He couldn't help but wonder if it was possible for vampires to get drunk on anything other than blood. It didn't seem so at the moment. He had drunk only a little bit of wine –all given to him by someone other than the original bartender, who carefully seemed to be avoiding Harry – but it didn't seem to affect him. Actually, the effects could be described as nothing other than the warmth of the alcohol minus the inhibiting bit. He didn't even have a light headache. But then again, two glasses of red wine was hardly enough to get tipsy without the vampire bit.

So, as he helped Ron and Hermione out, he chuckled. For once he wasn't the one being babied. He was the one doing the babying. Yet they seemed to become a lot more relaxed and normal even after simply leaving the club. Apparently there was something almost intoxicating about Vogue's atmosphere.

"I am not going to like this headache in the morning," Ron grumbled, clutching his head as if it already hurt. Hermione replied with a somewhat coherent thought. It was something about having a potion about that. Still, the ginger seemed to understand what she had to say because he nodded and said something back just as incomprehensible.

"Oh, speaking of which, Harry, I need to talk with you about something. I guess now is as good of a time as ever. I should – oh, just let me find it." Hermione reached into her purse and found what Harry knew to be a sobering potion. With a gulp, her head cleared and she groaned, suddenly drained from the strange strength of drunkenness. Handing Ron the bottle, she managed a half smile. Clearly she was tired. Hell, Harry was even starting to get tired. He was ready to curl up in his bed and sleep the day away. Still, he trusted that Hermione had something important to say. And now was almost as good a moment as any other, as she had said. So, with a single, wandless wave of the hand, he gestured that they should continue.

They all Apparated into the peaceful night, Ron moaning about his head. A rabbit scampered off, frightened, and after a brief pause, the night stilled again. The streets remained as quiet as they had been all those years ago – on that night Harry didn't remember when Dumbledore had set him down on another doorstep, far away on Privet Drive. It was Ron's groan that broke the silence. They seemed to snap out of some sort of trance, and all three of them simultaneously moved toward the doorstep. Harry unlocked the door and soon they found themselves upstairs in his kitchen. He handed Ron a migraine pill, and the ginger grumbled something about Muggle medicine before swallowing.

"I usually take the pills. Ron opts for potions most of the time." She affectionately pulled him over and nuzzled into his shoulder. "Let's just wait for the medicine to take effect. I want Ron to hear this too." Harry nodded.

"You haven't told him yet?""

"I thought it would be best for all three of us to discuss this."

"So, something to do with my –" Harry motioned to his teeth – "current situation." Hermione nodded. "Alright, but do you mind if I take my contacts out first? They're starting to annoy me." He walked over to his room, yet before he reached his contacts case, he noticed something was off.

In fact, he immediately spotted the letter on his bed, and recognized the loopy, elegant handwriting. "Malfoy," he muttered to himself. Smiling, he opened the letter, relaxing immediately as Malfoy's distinctive whiff filled his nose.

_Potter_

_I came by to see  
><em>_if you were doing alright, but  
><em>_clearly you weren't here. If you find yourself in the  
><em>_need of me anytime soon, simply ask Weasley to contact  
><em>_me. It shouldn't be too much trouble._

_Draco Malfoy_

"Harry, you alright?" Hermione's voice breached through the happy white noise overflowing from Harry, and he heard her shuffling in the kitchen.

"Fine, coming!" Quickly he pulled out the contacts and ran over to the kitchen, grinning sheepishly. From the way he fiddled with his thumbs and slouched over slightly, Ron knew something had happened.

"What?" he asked, watching his best mate roll on the balls of his feet.

"Malfoy was here waiting for me." Something about that image made him happy. Malfoy seemed to genuinely care about him. It was a miracle. Or he was just dreaming. There was no Pureblood "I'm too good for this" attitude, or a childish refusal to help a Gryffindor. The grin on Harry's face was ridiculous.

"Oh, Harry, I'm glad he's not being a prat about this." Hermione began to make a move to hug him and awkwardly disguised it as some sort of a motion of excitement as her arms started to raise up from her waist.

"Me too. Oh, wait, what was it you wanted to tell me?"

"I – Just promise me you won't interrupt me until I'm done."

"Well, that sounds promising," Harry said, deflating a little.

"No, I know you're gonna like the first half of what I have to say, but you need to hear me out. It's important."

"Geez, 'Mione, and you didn't think to tell me any of this?"

"It's nothing certain, so I didn't want you blabbing to harry pointlessly."

"Blabbing to me about what, though?" Harry crossed his arms and slid into a chair.

"Okay, remember how I heard something about curing your – err – predicament?" Harry and Ron both nodded. "Well, we're not doing that."

"What – but that could be the only way to get him back as a human!" As he jumped up, Ron knocked his chair over. Even Harry felt rather shocked. Was Hermione trying to be an advocate for vampire rights? As admirable as the gesture was, it didn't seem to have worked so well with S.P.E.W.

"No, but that's the thing. I might have figured out an alternative cure. I was doing some research –"

"In the library, no doubt."

"Yes, Ron, in the library. Some of us care about Harry enough to actually look inside and read books. Anyway, I may have come up with something. It's more of my own creation than anything else, but it might just work. But it's not positive that it will work..."

"Why can't we do the ritual?" Harry asked after a moment of hesitation.

"Trust me, Harry. You wouldn't want to do it."

"I still want to know why. There is a reason, isn't there?"

"It's... Well, it's a sacrificial ritual. You're supposed to sacrifice your mate." Harry's skin prickled, and suddenly he felt on edge. Whatever happened, he knew he wouldn't take that path. Malfoy's life was worth far too much. His poor Draco – he shuddered.

"You're right. I wouldn't want to do it." An uncomfortable silence fell over them heavily like a woollen blanket.

"So, Hermione and I are going to be busy tomorrow," Ron said, smiling awkwardly.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I bought tickets for a Weird Sisters concert. It's going to be totally awesome."

"Yeah, I'm sure." Conversation continued on for the next hour at ease. Everyone relaxed, and soon any worries or tension was dropped. It was almost as if nothing was wrong, as if they had come back after a long day at the Ministry to hang out.

Harry finally waved goodbye as they went home and watched them disappear in the flames. He was exhausted, but he felt so damn happy. At least that...

His bed had never seemed more comfortable, and his eyes fluttered shut moments after he had slipped beneath the blankets. As his heavy breathing filled the room, his fingers gently came undone. A crinkled letter with Draco's handwriting fell out and rested next to him. Even as he slept, Harry's smile persisted.

* * *

><p><strong>Tell me what you thought if you so desire, my lovelies.<strong>


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note**: I'm sorry for taking forever. The first week of school was pretty hectic, and I'm really trying to write my next chap of Seasons of Love. Gah. Anyway, here's chapter eight.

Chapter Eight

It took a few days before Harry actually started to feel the effects of being a vampire again. He stayed at home after that, Hermione and Ron occasionally visiting. He still wasn't thirsty, luckily, but the slight headache and weariness served as a reminder of his condition. It didn't help that all his dreams revolved around Malfoy.

It was, in fact, the third day after going to Vogue that Hermione requested the oddest thing from Harry. They seemed to be having a decent time; they were sitting around the table, Harry sipping red wine and laughing. Everything seemed almost normal. It was refreshing. Harry liked hanging out like this better than clubbing. It was almost like Hogwarts all over again.

"Harry, can you bite me?" Hermione _looked _serious, but there was no way she could have been. Could she?

"What!" Ron and Harry both stared at her incredulously. The request had come out of nowhere and seemed so ridiculous that they both were sure that they had to have heard wrongly.

"Well, I'm trying to look at the venom's effects. And you're not thirsty yet as far as I understood, so what better time is there for you to do this? You don't have to drink much. I mean, if you get out of control, Ron will be here to stop you."

"But I don't know how I'm going to react. I mean, blood tends to make me go a little crazy. I'm pretty sure you've noticed this." He couldn't imagine biting into anyone. Drinking blood out of a vile was one thing, but taking it so upfront made it all the more realistic.

"Yeah, 'Mione, I'm not sure this is such a good idea." Ron fiddled with his wand, and he seemed ready to stop either of them if they tried anything strange. But Harry wasn't sure. What if she needed this for her research? What if it could help her eventually change him back? Hermione seemed to be on the same track as Harry.

"Please, Ron, all you have to do is be ready. It might be important. What if it helps Harry change back?" After a pause, they nodded. But Harry turned to Ron and sternly looked at him.

"If you even think there's a _chance_ I'm going to hurt her, do what you have to do to stop me." For a moment it looked like the ginger was about to protest, but then his mouth shut and he simply nodded again.

Harry walked over and carefully brushed her hair away from her neck. The venom only slowly filled his mouth. Harry took this to be a good sign. Still, the sight of exposed flesh so close to his mouth – thinking about it made a bit more rush in. Leaning forward, his lips latched onto her skin and he bit down.

Hermione gasped and her fingers grabbed him for support. While biting her, Harry managed to manoeuvre overtop her. The fresh blood was sweeter than the first lick of ice cream on a summer's day. It melted in his mouth and tasted better than anything else ever had. Each lick and suck drew a moan from him, and every bit of him bubbled with warmth. Hermione began to mutter something underneath him, but it didn't register until her warm body thrust up into his. He recoiled, feeling the blood trickle down his chin. This was Hermione. It wasn't some stranger on the street, and even if it had been, Harry had never wanted to hurt anyone.

Ron stared at them, wand held up menacingly above his head, but any frightening effects were lost as his hand trembled and his face was drained of colour. Hermione broke the silence with a whimper and as her eyes fluttered, she slowly seemed to come back to herself. She feebly reached into her purse and pulled out what had to be blood replenishing potion. Meanwhile, Harry stood pressed up against his wall, trying to process what had just happened. After a moment, all the colour fully returned to her rosy cheeks, and Hermione pulled out another vial.

"Quickly, put some venom in this." Harry cautiously moved forward silently, and grabbed it out of her hands. There was enough venom to fill the vial container half-way up, and he handed it back to her, cork in place, with unsteady hands. The moment she took it, he was back in the shadows again.

"Your blood," he muttered, pointing at her neck. The open wound still attracted him. Her blood wasn't his mate's, certainly, but it was still fresh and right under his nose. Even now he had difficulty resisting himself. So, he looked to Ron for help. "Just stop me. I don't think I will, but I might. Do it!" Ron winced before waving his wand, and suddenly Harry fell to the ground, unable to move. "Much better." The smell still drew his attention, but at least now he knew it was safe.

"Harry?" Hermione asked uncertainly. Ron still said nothing, but he observed the scene as if he couldn't touch it.

"It's like being a full kid in a candy shop. You know you'll burst if you eat another bite, but everything you dream of – it's right in front of you like you."

"'Mione, I don't care what it did to Harry, but what the fuck did it do to you? You looked like you were about to – You almost had a – Bloody hell, you were about to have an orgasm, weren't you?" His face was redder than Hermione's, if possible. Harry's eyes screwed shut, and he rocked against his hands.

"I'm sorry, Ron. I didn't even realise..." Mortification swept across Harry's face, and he stuttered out another apology.

"It seems to have that effect, yes, Ron," Hermione finally said. "I'll need to try to look at the venom." She looked over at Harry and sighed. "I should have warned you. That probably wasn't an experience you want to repeat."

"You knew?" Harry sounded small, his voice squeaky, yet with his gleaming red eyes it was hard to imagine him as innocent. Hermione nodded and grabbed her purse.

"Maybe we should go. It's getting late, and you look tired. We can come back tomorrow if you want us to. Although we're busy the day after that. Ginny invited us to a dinner party."

Harry's mouth opened and closed like a fish's for a moment before he finally said, "Tell her that I send my wishes – that I say hello. And, yeah, feel free to come tomorrow." Ron realised the bonds, but Harry limply lay there, watching them as they uncomfortably edged out of the room and to the fireplace. It wasn't until minutes after they had left that Harry picked himself and threw himself on his bed. Had everything been normal, he would have gone to Ginny's dinner party with them. He would have laughed some and probably complained about being single. But he would be too big of a risk now, and going there would be the equivalent of going to a buffet. Only these would be his friends he'd kill and eat. Horrified at the images, he drowned out any other thoughts and slowly lulled him into a sleep.

Ron and Hermione did, in fact, come the next day. None of them mentioned anything about yesterday's occurrence. Instead they pretended to forget about it and talked about other things that didn't matter. Soon enough, fake, nervous laughs were replaced with real ones and the tension slid away. With as much as they had gone through, it was impossible to be awkward around each other for long. Everything slipped back to normal and vampire issues were forgotten once again. The night seemed to pass by impossibly quickly, and it was nearly dawn when they left. That night Harry didn't curl in bed with fears and doubts. His fingers wrapped around Malfoy's letter once again for good luck as he turned over and slept soundly.

In fact, it was a week after meeting with Malfoy for the first time that Harry asked Ron to tell Malfoy to come again. He hadn't wanted to seem needy, but it was starting to get a bit irritating. He was becoming lethargic and twitchy. If he didn't see Malfoy soon, he'd be in trouble. So, they invited him. Ron and Hermione came immediately before Malfoy could, and Ron offered himself.

"For blood?" Harry had asked incredulously. "Don't you remember what happened last time?"

"'Mione thought it would be best if you had fresh blood before seeing Malfoy. We don't want you chained up like last time." He didn't look overly thrilled with the idea, but with a bit of a push from Hermione, Harry had agreed to it.

Harry shifted Ron over to the couch – "I could barely stay seated upright, so standing would be impossible," Hermione said – and gently exposed his neck. After a moment of contemplation, he plunged forward, not wanting to draw it out longer than it had to be. Ron's reaction was immediate. His gasp of pain was quickly converted into a strangled sound, and his hand went up to Harry's hair. Harry shuddered, but he took another gulp. It was fucking amazing. The warmth bubbled within him again, when suddenly –

The _whoosh_ prickled in Harry's ears, and, in a second, Draco stood a few metres away, yelping in surprise. Harry pulled back just as the blond began yelling. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" This wasn't something he wanted Draco to see at all. He mouthed a string of random words, but Ron provided an answer for him.

"What does it look like?" Ron wheezed as Hermione dabbed at his wound and thrust a vial in his hand. "We were just making sure he wasn't going to attack your precious arse.

"That's what I meant, Weasley," Malfoy sneered. "I meant that wasn't something I ever wanted to see." Harry noticed his face was red and his fists twitched. Embarrassed, Harry began mumbling an apology, but Ron cut him off again.

"Next time we'll just let him attack you, then!" _Let me_, Harry though, recoiling. They talked about him as if he was an untamed wild animal. Perhaps he was animalistic. Disgustedly, he reached up, wiping the blood away from his mouth and staring at it as if he wished it could disappear.

"I can handle myself, thank you v-"

"Enough!" Harry stormed out of the room and put his hands under the water, scrubbing violently. Even when the blood was gone, he washed his face and scraped at the skin. It was only when he accidentally peeled off a layer of skin from his ring finger and the blood quickly oozed down his arm that he stopped, crying out in pain.

"Are you alright?" Hermione appeared behind him and gasped. "You hurt yourself."

"I'm fine." By now the blood stained his sleeve and covered half his hand. Hermione began to usher him to the living room and ignored Ron's sudden outburst at all of Harry's blood.

"You should know better than to taunt him," Hermione chastised Malfoy before turning to Ron. "And you should know better than to insult his mate. Harry already feels guilty. The last thing he needs is for him to attack you on instinct." Ron's face turned crimson as he spewed sorry after sorry. Malfoy's apology, on the other hand, was brief. He didn't even sound sincere. As soon as the blood was cleared from Harry's arm, Hermione spoke again. "We'd best be off." With that, they quickly made their exit, leaving Malfoy and Harry standing a metre or two apart, staring at each other.

"I need to touch you."

"That's why I came, Potter. You think I enjoy spending my nights arguing with Weasley and risking my life?" He made it sound so much worse than it was, but Harry couldn't help but feel responsible.

"If I could do without putting you in danger, I would."

"Touching, really." He yawned as if bored, and moved over to the couch. Again, Harry couldn't help but notice as he sat the same way, relaxed, legs spread widely, invitingly. Shaking his head, he moved towards Malfoy, his body purring in anticipation and delight. When their hands touched, his eyes closed and pleasured seeped in through his fingers and palm. It was like a pulsating current. Harry felt amazing, ecstatic. It was almost as if his heard started beating again. But then he noticed Malfoy's hand was stiff under his and his joy faded.

"Those facial expressions make you look ridiculous, Potter." Malfoy's voice conveyed detachment.

"I can't help them." The magic of the first few seconds was lost as he grabbed Malfoy's hands even more tightly. He descended into reality once more and away from those fantasies where Malfoy reached for _his_ hand.

"If I thought that you could help it, I would have asked you never to make them."

"How do you know I can't be restrained?"

"Past experience," Malfoy said simply, rolling his eyes.

"What, do you help other vampires with their problems? Do you have many people who have you as their mates? That must be an ego boost."

Despite the jesting tone, Malfoy snapped back, his eyes narrowed, "I believe you were just as delusional last time I came to help you." The moment of silence that followed was broken as Harry sighed.

"Look, this isn't what I wanted at all. I wanted to get off on a better foot. I don't think I need to tell you that I actually do care about – " He paused. "So, how was your day?"

"Fine." The terseness and the pain in his voice told Harry that Malfoy remained angry at him for some unknown reason. Or, more likely, his pride was just hurt.

"I'm going to regret asking this, but why aren't you married off to some wealthy Pureblood. I would have thought that would be what you wanted to do."

"It just hasn't really worked out," Malfoy said with a shrug. "Father wanted to set me up with Astoria Greengrass, but I didn't really fancy her. She was too absorbed in trivialities for my taste."

"Well, what about Pansy? You two seemed to hit it off at Hogwarts." Malfoy laughed and a smile invaded Harry's face once more. Draco Malfoy had actually _laughed_.

"Everyone says that to me, but we were never more than friends. She may have called me darling and stroked my hair, but she always chased after Blaise. Blaise was just too blind to see it for a while."

"But isn't there anyone that interests you? You're probably going to be voted most eligible bachelor of the year. You're a model. You have to have some sort of following, don't you?" Well, so much for not feeding Drac – Malfoy's ego.

"I'm just too focused with work. A love life would be a distraction. And it's not as if any of the people chasing after me would actually make a decent partner." He paused and his eyes seemed to water for a moment as if he was lost in the puddles of a memory left in a Pensive. "They just like me for my body."

"Wow, deep," Harry teased. He inched closer and his body vibrated. This was joy.

"Enough about me. How was your love life?" It wasn't out of genuine curiosity that he asked, and it stung. It was out of politeness. Manners had clearly taught Draco how to make respectable small talk.

"Practically nonexistent." He paused and gave a humourless chuckle. "Probably the only kiss I got before being bitten was a kiss on the cheek by Mrs. Weasley." Suddenly Harry looked nervous. His face fell and he added, "Of course, she'd probably want me dead if she knew what I was no like."

"No!" Malfoy had jumped up and he looked straight at Harry. "No matter what happens, the ones that truly love you will continue to fight for you. They'd never wish you dead. If she found out, she'd only want to help." The words sounded like something Ron or Hermione might tell him, not Draco. Harry rushed forward, wrapping his arms around Draco's waist as he nuzzled his head into his shoulder.

But two hands pushed him back without warning, and Harry stumbled backwards into the couch again. "What the hell is it you think you're doing, Potter?" Malfoy was livid now, and it was only then that Harry noticed a wand was pointed directly at his chest. Malfoy seemed to notice this at the same time, and he lowered his wand with what seemed to be great difficulty.

"I was just trying to hug you." Harry cut off realising he was only stating the obvious. Malfoy's eyes turned to slits and his wand hand twitched by his side. It was clearly with great determination only that he resisted hexing Harry.

"I never would have realised without your keen observation; thank you," came Malfoy's scathing remark. "But I want to know why. I thought I made it clear that I wanted you to keep this as impersonal as possible."

"How can I? You drive me crazy and it's not like I think these things out. It's an impulse. If anything was decent about the world, you wouldn't even be my mate. But since you are, you have to deal with it. I don't know how you expect me to act nonchalant after you show you that you actually have a heart!"

"That I actually have a heart?" Malfoy's voice was colder than before, and his lip pulled upward as he looked at Harry in disgust. Harry's stomach dropped as he realised that he had spoken without thinking. "Fuck you. I'm already tired of trying to make small talk with you. I'm tired and just wasting my time on someone who can't even attempt to appreciate it."

"Draco, wait! That's not what I meant. Please, don't go. You know it just slipped out. I know you have a heart." He reached out, placing a hand on Draco's shoulder, but the blond shook him off and looked at him with watery eyes. His heart was suddenly twisted into a knot. Draco looked so vulnerable all of a sudden.

"I don't care what you meant. You talk without stopping and you try to dig for something that you'll like about me. What do you want me to say: 'I love you' because I never will!"

"I'll be quiet. Please, just don't leave. Not yet." Draco's words stung, but he swallowed the pain momentarily. Again, Harry's hand was thrown off of Draco's shoulder. The blond was gone with a tower of flames and the cackle of the fireplace was the only thing that filled the silence.

Harry was left torn about how he felt. On one hand, the mere opportunity to be with Draco was cause for celebration, and his newfound ability to read past looks, money, style, and general frivolities was the most powerful insight. It was probably the truest phrase he had heard Draco say. On the other hand, he had clearly struck more than one chord with Draco. Who knew if Draco would forgive him? Or when... He just had to leave him alone for a few days. If anything could change Malfoy's mind, it was fine.

* * *

><p><strong>So, what did you think?<strong>


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note**: Oh, so, I've failed at updating it seems. I have been busy in my defense. Exciting things include going to Dragon*Con and meeting Tom Felton this weekend, so that was pretty exciting.

But I'm going to do two chapters in an attempt to make up for it. *holds out Dark Mark-shaped cookies and pouts*

Chapter Nine

Harry woke up the next day curled in a ball on his bed. He could hear commotions outside, and Ron and Hermione's voices faintly run out from somewhere, perhaps his kitchen. He didn't particularly want to face them. They would ask how yesterday went, and Harry would have to explain. Glancing over to his dresser beside his bed, he looked at the letter Malfoy had left him. Well, this time Harry was sure Malfoy wouldn't try to check up on him.

It was only when he grabbed it that he noticed Malfoy's scent had completely vanished. It smelled like his room, and the only reminder that Malfoy had ever held it was in the quickly written words. Sighing, Harry pulled himself up and looked around the room. But he didn't pick up any clothes in the end. He simple grabbed a bathrobe and lazily slung it over his shoulders. He would have to face them sooner or later. Maybe he should just get it over with.

"Hey there, sleepyhead. You must have slept well." Ron already had a glass of red wine prepared for him as if this was some standard breakfast, like fried eggs and bacon. Ron cheerily waved at Harry before offering him one of his own chairs. Apparently the ginger was in a good mood.

"Oh, hey guys." It was difficult to form a smile, especially with such bad news in store. They seemed to think, if their smiling faces were anything to go by, that yesterday went well.

"So, this time we didn't have to save you. Or, well, untie you. It seems like a little plea of letting you have fresh blood worked well after all."

"I –" They seemed so happy for him, and the last thing Harry wanted was to spoil their mood. But really there wasn't much else to say. "I managed to screw things up in other ways; don't worry."

"What happened?" Hermione and Ron both took seats opposite him, and Harry couldn't help but laugh. Their expressions were identical. Both of them bore a look of concern that lightened slightly with his chuckle.

"I said something I didn't mean to. I think I hurt him. Or, well, I know, I hurt him. He stormed away. He was –" Harry collapsed, head on the table. His breathing was raspy and had he been able to cry, it was clear he would have been sobbing. The last thing any vampire wanted was to hurt his mate, physically or emotionally. Harry had barely been able to sleep, and spent a good part of the night replaying last night's events.

"What did you say to him? It couldn't have been that terrible." She shared a glance with Ron that Harry didn't see.

"He said something completely unexpected. Probably the only sentimental thing he'll ever say to me. I hugged him, and he flipped out. So, I told him it was the first time I saw he had a heart."

"You said what?" Ron's jaw dropped and he threw his hands up into the air. "You're helpless. I thought you were supposed to be nice to your mate."

"I didn't mean it; you know that." Harry trembled. The words had slipped out so easily.

"Yeah, but it doesn't make it fair. I understand why he would get mad." Hermione sighed. "Was it fine before you said that?"

"I don't know. He seemed uncomfortable discussing anything. I should have just stayed silent. I have to ruin everything, don't I?" His fucking mouth – the whole fucking situation – he screamed in frustration. Both Ron and Hermione jumped back, surprised.

"You didn't ruin everything," Hermione added, attempting to comfort him. The words didn't really console him at all. After all, Hermione looked slightly concerned herself, and the words seemed to be used in a bad attempt to soothe him. Not that he could blame her – he was trembling as she spoke.

"Malfoy is just very...proud, and words like those hurt everyone. I can only imagine that he took them even more harshly. He's just dealing with a lot." That was true too. Draco had sacrificed so much. Malfoy, God dammit. Harry clutched his head. But why would Malfoy help him? He clearly didn't care.

"No. He doesn't give a shit about me. He's just doing it for some reason to help himself, most likely. All in all, this is great fun, Hermione, really. Now all I need is for the Ministry to find out and hunt me down. That will really get the party started, don't you think?"

"Harry! Bloody hell, calm down, mate. It's not the end of the world. Malfoy didn't send an owl telling us he wanted to call it off. He just needs time to let it blow over." Ron reached over to give him a comforting pat on the back, but stopped midway, hand in the air. He looked at it as if he couldn't believe it before taking a deep breath.

"I hate being a vampire." He grabbed the glass of red wine and downed it in one gulp. Just as the chink of the glass against the wood sounded, there came a _whoosh_ from the fireplace. "You invited someone else?" He was about to ask who when Luna popper her head in the doorway.

"Hello, Harry." She sat down beside Harry and grinned. But all three of them followed her with their eyes. She wore a necklace with a pendant obscured with what appeared to be silver glitter. She noticed everyone's gaze and followed it down before cheerfully adding, "Rolf gave it to me. It's supposed to ward off the Krumpletons." Her voice was serious, and Harry barely managed to stifle a laugh. Some things really would always be the same, and Luna's little quirks were definitely here to stay.

"What's a Krumple – err –" It was usually best to go along with things like this. Once he'd gotten past the weirdness, he found that Luna's creatures were actually interesting. And, in any case, it was _something_ to keep his mind off of Draco. Err – Malfoy.

"A Krumpleton hides in the garden at night. If you're not careful, it can bite off your toes. Daddy's writing an article about them to put in the next Quibbler." Harry nodded, and as he did so, his spirits suddenly lifted. It was nice that Luna still believed in all these creatures. Her strength in blind faith never decreased, and even Hermione had come to respect it.

The rest of the night was spent laughing, and Harry's thoughts slowly pulled away from any blond best-left-unnamed mates. It was ridiculous how much of an impact Ron and Hermione had on his mood. He couldn't express exactly how much he appreciated their constant help. They relentlessly strove to make him happy. Harry could only imagine that Ron and Hermione were tired of acting as amusement for Harry, and Luna would certainly be much happier spending her time with Rolf.

Yet they came the next two nights again. Each night they managed to distract him, but each night seemed to provide another challenge. He wasn't only getting thirstier, but he ached for Malfoy's mere touch. He wasn't sure if he should contact Draco or just wait for the blond to come first. What if he got angry? But what if Malfoy expected him to be the one to get in touch?

By the third night, he couldn't help it anymore, and he grabbed a quill and parchment, deciding to write Draco a letter himself. Maybe if the apology and request were personal, he'd be more willing to accept them.

_Draco,_

_I know this letter won't make up_

_for what I said to you only a few days ago. I understand_

_if you're still angry, but it hurts to know that I've hurt you. You agreed to help_

_me when you easily could have turned me in, and I appreciate it. I'm not very good with_

_words, as you can probably tell. I just hope you accept my apology. Whenever_

_you can next meet up, I'd be forever in your debt. I hope_

_you can accept my apology._

_Harry_

Harry realised only after he had finished writing that he had no clue where to send it. Malfoy probably wasn't at work at this time, and he certainly lived somewhere by himself. The only problem was finding out where that "somewhere" was.

After a moment or two of internal debate, however, Harry decided to send the letter to the Malfoy Manor. If nothing else, they would send it to Draco or give it to him the next time he visited. Draco would have to realise that he was attempting to be personal with his apology. He wasn't using Ron as a scapegoat for communication. Maybe he'd still be able to appreciate it. Harry hoped so.

He could picture Draco reading it, wetting his lips with his tongue, and nervously biting the lower one, a pink tinge in his cheeks. He would come to Harry, announcing that his apology was accepted and let Harry lean his head on his neck. The gesture of openness, Harry imagined, would be purely blissful.

But just the thought made his pants uncomfortably tight, and those pink lips and nimble fingers lingered in his mind a moment too long. His breath became shallow as he imagined Draco, posed but spread out across a bed, willing and open beneath him. His icicle eyes would open, and he'd say, "Fuck me. Bite me," his voice low and raspy. And his fingers would clench around the sheets as he exposed his neck.

"Fuck," Harry muttered, rushing to his bedroom. Collapsing on the bed, his hands fumbled at his pants, and he tried to calm his heavy pants. But Draco continued flashing in his head, and the venom dribbled on his chin. It was nearly impossible to swallow all of it, and it didn't get any better when his cock finally sprung free into the air, away from constricting clothes. His hands reached down and wrapped around his weeping cock.

Harry cried out, thrusting his hips forward. His entire body pulsated, on fire, drawing in a tidal wave of white noise. He jerked upward and his thumb played over the tip with exactly the right amount of pressure. In his mind they were Draco's hands, and he could hear the blond cry out as he bit him. Had anyone been watching, they would have seen Harry's jaw clamp around air, but, in his mind, blood overtook all other senses.

A crescendo of moans and gasps reverberated around in his head. He was so close. His hand frantically moved up and down, and he felt himself building up. His own blood mingled with the venom as he bit down on his lower lip. The actual taste of any blood, even his own, was enough. His stomach clenched as he came violently. Sparks few around him and his entire body spasmed one final time. He lay still on his bed when it had finished, staring at his hand, which was now coated in sticky white.

It took a moment to relax before he finally sat up again. Saying that he felt fine would have been a lie, but he certainly felt better than before. Of course, the longer he lay there, the quicker the feeling went away. It wasn't like that would ever happen, anyway. Harry's eyes clenched again and his hand fell from his now-flaccid cock. With effort, he pulled himself up and dragged himself over to his bedroom. Turning on the water, he waited for steam to fill up the room. It almost choked him with he finally entered. The air was so moist it was difficult to breathe. And the water was so hot it almost burned his skin.

Harry let out a hiss of air, but didn't pull away. He just let it wash over him, and he clenched his fists, driving them into the wall. He had to get stuck with this. It could have been anyone, but it was him. It was always him. The water continued to beat at his back and his jaw remained clenched. It was too hot to adjust to the water. Instead he endured it until it slowly ebbed to coldness. Only when he shivered did he turn off the water and step out.

He threw on an old, baggy t-shirt and some sweats before walking to the living room and splaying out on the couch. He didn't particularly feel like sleeping in his bed tonight. He had just adjusted to be comfortable when there was a tapping at his window. Harry pulled back everything to reveal the owl, a new letter in his beak. Harry's heart leapt as he snatched it and tore it open.

_Potter,_

_One thing I should warn you: never send letters to my house. You were lucky that I should be here to pick it up before my father. He's taken an uncomfortable habit of trying to find out everything there is to know about my life. I'd rather he didn't have your letter to read. _

_On another note, you should have thought to apologise earlier. You caught me last minute. I'm off for a photo shoot in Venice. I won't be able to visit you for another five days. I guess you should have summoned that dubious Gryffindor courage earlier. You'll just have to deal with it, I suppose, until Sunday._

_Draco Malfoy_

Harry scowled at the message before disgustedly ripping it up and screaming in frustration. The owl jumped with a hoot and glared angrily at him. It proceeded to ruffle its wings and fly off. Harry had left him to fend for himself most of the time.

So, it actually had been lucky he had been around earlier to send the letter earlier. The letter! Harry pulled out his wand, or at least tried to. He had no clue where he had last put it. Running to the bedroom, he seemed crazy. And his only reminder – only thing to keep him satisfied – was the letter.

He searched everywhere, even drawers, but it was nowhere to be found. Nor in the bathroom. Or kitchen. In fact, when he finally found it, it had been a few metres away from where he originally stood. "Reparo!" Desperately, he tried to fix the only remainder left. The pages reformed themselves, weakly, and Harry clutched it before inhaling deeply. At least it still smelled faintly of Draco. But that was only if he pressed it as closely as possible and breathed in really deeply.

Still, five days of this simple letter would not sustain him. Draco's scent would have faded considerably, if not disappeared at that point. And while he didn't need Draco to survive, he knew pain and weakness would certainly accompany the lack of the blond git. Harry couldn't help but wonder whether it really would have made a difference had he apologised sooner.

Picking up a quill and parchment, he looked at the owl again, saying, "Fred, don't leave just yet." Had owls been able to roll their eyes, Harry would have been convinced Fred had done it.

Still, the owl waited, watching Harry scribble out a quick letter to Ron and Hermione. Harry asked them to just stay away from his house for the next few days. He knew he was likely to be in a foul mood, and he didn't want them to be victims of his spurts of uncontrolled violence. Knowing his tendencies, he would likely blow up, and it was best that no one was around then. He attached the letter to Fred's leg and sprawled on the couch. Upon closing his eyes, he fell asleep.

Ron and Hermione sent blood via owl. It was delicious, and Harry couldn't deny that he was thankful, but with each passing day, he felt weaker. His entire body began to feel sore, and his dreams, however filled with the blond, were never enough to compensate. By the fourth day, he stayed in bed, only moving to turn.

It was as if someone had sapped all the energy from him. Despite this, he debated going out and trying to find Draco. Of course, when he tried to imagine how this would bode, the images were almost comical. The only thing that Harry knew about Draco's whereabouts was Venice, which didn't really provide many limits. Just as he had predicted, Draco's scent had faded away from the letter, and it lay at the edge of his bed, the creases worn from overuse.

The only thing that really kept him going was the thought that tomorrow was the day that Draco finally came back. If he didn't come visit, Harry was sure he'd find the energy to find the blond git. Draco probably was going to chuckle – hell, he probably already had a good chuckle over the amount of power he had over Harry's happiness. But Harry didn't even care anymore.

He would get to see those blue eyes and blond-white hair. Every detail that he'd projected in his mind the past few days would be right in front of him. How many times had he come in the past few days with just that picture in mind? Harry moaned quietly to himself and shut his eyes, trying to fall asleep for the countless time that night.

Yes, tomorrow would indeed be glorious.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

Harry woke up on Sunday feeling giddy. It was the same sort of feeling a child got before going to Disneyland. His hands trembled slightly and when pouring his wine, he almost spilled it. In fact, he didn't remember the wine tasting this good recently. But all colours seemed to pop, dazzling his eyes, and everything just came to life.

Draco was finally coming. Of course, he had no clue _when_ Draco would come – it could be in a minute or four hours. Harry had woken up earlier than usual, and each passing minute only meant he was that much closer to seeing Draco. His stomach dived and knotted. His jaw clenched. It was impossible to sit still.

He was past the point of caring how much Draco affected him – not completely, but enough that he could shove the thought to the back of his mind. Harry curled up on the couch and yawned, his fingers picking at some loose pieces of string. He yawned again and hoped Draco wouldn't take too long. The night had barely begun and he was already sick of waiting.

To keep his mind off of the slowly moving time, Harry pulled himself upright again and grabbed whatever was closest to him off of the desk. "Whatever" turned out to be the album of photos of his parents. Over the years, people had handed him several others, including one of the four Marauders. Harry looked at it, feeling his chest constrict as it did every time. Every time he thought of Sirius arching backwards into the veil or Remus' body stacked among the dead – Harry gulped, feeling a knot form in his throat.

If it hadn't had been for him, they might still be around. It was difficult sometimes not to blame himself. Still, he remembered standing with the Resurrection Stone. All of them had seemed at peace. And if nothing else, he knew they all forgave him. That was all that really mattered.

Turning back a few pages, he saw a picture of his parents holding him. He was far too little to remember the memory, but when they waved at whomever was taking the picture, Harry couldn't help but feel that they were waving at _him_. Their eyes crinkled as they smiled. Harry waved back for a split second before he heard the _whoosh_ of someone coming. Carefully he placed the photo album back on the desk and sat a bit straighter. The scent was unmistakable.

Draco must have come almost directly from Venice. He wore a sleek black tuxedo with a white tie. There wasn't a single crease to be found. He might have looked like a mannequin if it wasn't for his lightly dishevelled hair. Harry took a step forward, and his hands shakily reached out to touch Draco's.

He could barely breathe as he felt static between their skin, even from a distance. It crackled and vibrated. Everything seemed to radiate perfection until Draco looked away. As their hands brushes together, Harry could feel Draco's twitch as he urged himself not to pull back. The rejection stung, but Harry leaned forward, swallowing the hurt. Again, Draco stiffened as Harry laid his hand on his shoulder. Draco didn't yet pull away, but just stood there, eyes closed.

"I'm sorry," Harry muttered, feeling all kinds of energy return to him. A bubbling feeling of warmth spread throughout him, and he nestled a little more firmly into Draco's shoulder.

"Look, Potter, I'm not overjoyed with this situation, but I do want to help. I'm still human, and what you said did hurt." Finally, Draco had spoken! That was his way of accepting Harry's apology, and Harry knew it. His smile broadened, but he couldn't help but wonder –

"Why do you want to help so much? I mean, you never were than fond of me. I'm pretty sure you would've hexed me at Hogwarts had you gotten the chance. Actually, you did."

"I have my reasons." Draco's breath hitched as Harry pressed himself completely against him. This time Draco did pull away a little, shifting uncomfortably. "You're pushing it, Potter."

"What reasons?" Harry fell back to the couch and motioned that Draco follow him. After a glance at the empty armchair, he did.

"They're for me to know. Do you have to keep on doing that?" Harry had proceeded to nuzzle against Draco's shoulder once more and shamelessly looked up, grinning.

"Sorry." There was no real apology in his voice. But still, he backed off, his hands sliding down Draco's arm. Draco shivered beneath him. Seduction was never really one of Harry's strong points, but he felt drunk with power, willing to push his limits. This whole thing came to him almost as easily as breathing.

"Potter, really, if you don't stop soon, I'm going to leave. I didn't come back to be molested by an underdressed vampire." He shifted over a few centimetres away from Harry. But Harry simply slid back.

"Well, you won't tell me why you care. How am I supposed to know?" With a sly grin, he let his hand move back, and pretended – poorly so – to slip. His hand fell between Malfoy's legs, squeezing gently, and he giggled. Yet the situation was anything but amusing to Draco. He finally jumped up, backing away. His nostrils flared and his wand was suddenly in his hand.

"That's it, Potter. You've tried your luck. I've attempted to be patient, but it's clear you're never going to take this seriously. You could _die_. I'm trying to help Granger and Weasley stall there time, but you don't care that I'm taking time away from my overly busy schedule to help you." With a violent thrust, he shoved his wand into his pocket again and began to storm away. Harry leapt up, reaching him before Draco got to the fireplace.

"I'm sorry. I take it back. Draco, please, don't leave. I'll sit as far away from you as you want. We'll do what you want. Just don't leave." His fingers wrapped around Draco's clothes, and he stared wide-eyed at Draco. "I know you're giving up a lot. I don't mean to be so ungrateful." Harry's words must have struck a chord because Harry saw him deflate and give in. When he looked up, Harry felt nothing but guilt. His eyes suddenly looked dull and he sagged forward.

In fact, tears seemed to be lurking behind his eyes. Harry saw them water and noticed Draco's jaw clench as he pulled them back. And intense need to comfort him – or do _something_ to lessen his pain – overtook him. Of course, he had no clue why Draco suddenly fought back tears, which made the problem all the more difficult to solve.

But Draco's barrier's caved in, and a tear fell down his face. There was a sharp intake of breath and Draco quickly wiped it away with his sleeve as if that could erase it. Harry panicked. There had to be some way he could help Draco – any way. With Draco's unhappiness, his heart felt heavy, and he fought the urge not to throw up. So, when instinct kicked in, he didn't question it.

He simply grabbed Draco's face, leaned forward, and kissed him. The room seemed to fall away for a brief second. Any sound drifted away from earshot, and suddenly it was as if they were they last two people, standing in front of a black hole, invincible. The doorway to humanity faded, and space gripped them in an unbreakable vacuum. His tongue gently probed into Draco's mouth, and he probed this unfamiliar territory tentatively.

Draco's mouth tasted of vanilla sugar and strawberries. Maybe it had been what Draco had eaten for a snack. Harry could imagine him biting down, the dark red juice dripping down his chin. In his mind it turned into blood. _Fuck_ – the venom flowed him to his mouth, and his grip on Draco tightened. He wouldn't have to hurt Draco, just have a little taste. Now he just had to slowly glide down to his neck...

The moment shattered as two hands shoved him backwards. He fell against the floor and felt magic hold him back and keep him in a python grip. Yet Harry made no attempt to struggle once he saw Draco's expression. There was nothing but horror and loathing on his face. No ounce of sympathy.

Nothing.

It was complete rejection. Harry could barely breathe. Not being with his mate was one thing. Still, he had known, even as an Auror, that there was no feeling comparable to it. But nothing could have prepared him. His throat closed off and every nerve suddenly felt flayed. Like the Cruciatus, Harry could barely even think. Yet with a careful, ragged breath, he managed to choke out Draco's name.

The blond didn't listen. Draco turned around and spoke quietly with his back still turned. "I don't care what it does to you. Don't go running to Granger or Weasley. I don't care what they have to say either. I'm done trying. I'm done with this. I don't know how I even thought this was a good idea. Let the Ministry find you. I don't even care anymore."

With that, he stormed away, leaving Harry's words and breath stuck somewhere inside of him. It was impossible to breathe or comprehend what had just happened. His mind was fuzzy and drowned out in screams. Nothing seemed to matter, and everything slowly faded at the corners. All that Harry could see was Draco's face – his words – replaying over and over again in his mind like a broken record. The only thing that kept him sane was the cause of his misery. The kiss stayed aglow like a candle in darkness. The strength and power that had blossomed in that single gesture flickered but stayed alive.

It could have been minutes – for all Harry knew – when Ron and Hermione stumbled in. From their rumpled clothes and repeated apologies, he guessed it was more likely to have been hours. Ron immediately released Harry from the bonds and began his question with a stutter. Hermione picked it up.

"We got a letter saying Draco was never planning to come again. What the hell happened?" Harry shook his head, feeling as if someone was carving into his heart. He curled up into a ball, his eyes screwed shut. When his knees bumped into his chest and stilled, there was minimal relaxation. He unfurled again, his breath ragged. Still, from Ron and Hermione's horrified expressions, he knew he was more of an animal now than he ever had been before.

"Harry?" Ron approached him cautiously and leaned down next to him. No words came out of Harry's mouth. When he opened it to speak, the only sounds were gasps. His breaths seemed to catch in his throat, and it felt as if someone's fingers were digging into his chest. Draco... He couldn't do this without Draco! And it was his fault that Draco hated him. His fault that Draco had rejected him.

The need to find Draco and beg for forgiveness, to crawl up to him and ask for him to come back – it was overwhelming. But Draco wouldn't care. Hadn't he said something about the Ministry finding him? Draco wanted him dead. The thought was a knife dug into his heart up to the hilt.

"Oh God..." Hermione ran up to Harry and paused before she could hug him. The look of helplessness of her face shone, and her eyes swam with tears. "He's just angry. He's left before. Harry, he'll turn around. If he was willing to come back and risk his life so that you wouldn't go insane... He'll come around. He has to."

"And if he doesn't?" Harry asked it so quietly that Hermione wasn't even sure she hadn't imagined it. But then Harry opened his eyes, and he looked at her with the same fear of a child freshly after a nightmare, the images still imprinted and the monsters still chasing him.

"So you behaved a little rashly, and Draco was scared. He doesn't know what he's doing. Of course he's going to freak out at times. I'm scared too, Harry. But we all just want to help." Harry could detect her uncertainty and tell she was trying to convince herself. A part of him wanted to believe Hermione, though, and after a moment's pause, he nodded.

Pulling himself off the floor, he dropped down on the couch. His gaze was vacant. He shoved away the pain and only allowed himself to stay numb. Ron shivered at how expressionless Harry's face was. He looked like an Inferi, almost. Or, at least, to some extent. Ron bit his lip nervously for a moment before sliding down next to Harry.

"I have something to tell you. I don't want you to worry, but I thought you'd want to know." Harry's head turned, and the same blankness remained on his face. Ron waited for a second, expecting Harry to say something, but when he continued silently, Ron sputtered into speech again. "Look, I was talking with Kingsley. I don't think he's suspicious yet, but he's going to be soon. He's already surprised that you're wasting all your vacation time in one go. I told him you were really stressed and you needed some time to relax. As for Hermione –"

"I'm trying really hard to find a cure. And I think it's a possibility that my idea works. Fingers crossed, huh?"

"Yeah, fingers crossed. Hey, I think I want to be alone if that's alright." He leaned over and fell, again curled up, knees tucked up under his chin. It was worse than anytime fighting Voldemort. Harry felt defenceless. There was no simple solution this time. It was worse than when he had been locked in that claustrophobia-inducing closet for weeks at a time, nightmares with green flashes plaguing his mind. He needed time for silence. Time when no one would try to convince him that everything was going to hell or that it would work out. Just time to cancel it all out and listen to nothing. It was time to shut off and to pretend that nothing was wrong and drown in lack of thoughts.

"Sure thing, Harry." There was the _whoosh_ of the fire, and then only peace. Harry shut his eyes, pretending tomorrow didn't even exist.

* * *

><p><strong>So, I guess I leave you again on an unhappy note? Oops.<strong>


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note**: Huzzah - another update! Here's chapter eleven. As always, massive amounts of angst. Oh, dear.

Chapter Eleven

Harry woke up on the couch, knees pressed up against his chest. He couldn't remember much of last night after Ron and Hermione had left. He remembered starting out at his living room, submerging in thoughts. At one point he had thrown up; he could at least remember that. He didn't really remember anything after that, though. The rest was fuzzy. In fact, he could still taste the acid in his mouth, and he walked slowly to the kitchen.

The bottle of red win was open, so he just poured himself a glass and took a giant gulp. The horrid taste was washed out, but he still felt like shite. Fear plagued him. What if Draco didn't come back? What if Draco turned him in?

What if...

There were too many uncertainties, and they all shouted and rattled inside of Harry's head. They were so loud that Harry had to resist the urge to cover his head with a pillow and scream. He just wanted it all to shut up and disappear. But, of course, problems were that easy to solve. His, at least weren't. Actually, that was a good point; when was the last time he had a simple problem?

"Saving the world isn't enough for you?" he shouted to thin air. Sliding down into the corner of his kitchen, he burst out into hysterical laughter. "Is there something else you want me to do? Facing a psychopathic wizard was a joke, right? This vamp thing can't be it. Is there someone at the door, waiting to attack and take me? At this point it would almost be a relief."

His laughter transformed into broken, dry sobs. His hand ripped through his hair, and he trembled. There had always been a solution before. When Dudley tried to hurt him, he was able to outrun him. When Voldemort had hunted him down, he had to find a way to kill him and destroy the Horcruxes. But now his only refuge lay in the hands of a cure than might not even exist. And his only safety blanket, his mate, had abandoned him.

Shuddering, he pulled himself up. He had to get out. Here he was just going to go insane, worrying , swarmed with thoughts. He had no clue which club to go to, but that was the only option at this point. At least it seemed like it.

He wanted to stay away from Ron and Hermione for one night. He'd be fine with strangers and loud techno music. There was plenty of red wine to satisfy him and no room for thinking. Vogue seemed like the obvious option. He had to go somewhere he didn't know very well. A familiar setting might remind him of Draco. His eyes closed and he shook his head. It was the only thing he could think to do to get his mind clear. What else was open at midnight? If he needed to run away, that was the one option that presented itself easily.

When he was choosing which clothes to wear, he couldn't help but imagine that Draco was standing next to him, critiquing is every choice. He could picture the pompous smirk and the way his fingers would lightly brush up against Harry's skin as he compared the shirts.

Of course, other than seeing him recently and in a handful of catalogues, Harry had no clue what Draco's fashion sense was like. Yet as he pulled at his green one, he could imagine the sneering voice speaking out. "That one," Draco would say. "You wore that one last week! Do you just want to throw on the same clothes every time you go out? Your lack of any refinement still manages to astonish me, Potter." Harry chuckled quietly to himself, but it was a sound that died in his throat. It was all still in his head. Still, that imagination provided quite a realistic Draco.

A sleeve stuck out in the back of his closet, and Harry reached back, grabbing hold of a shirt and pulling it out. Its style was the same as the green one – a simple button-up – but this time it happened to be plum. At first that seemed odd, and then the memory came back. Ginny had given it to him. She said that the colour would go nicely on him.

It was right around the time they broke up, and she had said that he could use it to charm the other boys. Still, plum had always seemed like an odd colour, and he had merely hidden it away. He couldn't help but wonder as he held it whether Ginny had noticed that he had never worn it. If she had noticed, had she been offended? She had said it was his colour, and as he held it up to himself and looked down, he could see she had been right.

Considering he owned about four pairs of non-dress pants, he found that choice to be much simpler. As he hovered around his room attempting to figure out whether he should do anything else, his eyes lay on a box in his desk.

Harry hand never been much of a jewellery person, but when he first came out, a few of his lesser friends bought him nice shirts for his birthday. He also received a handful of necklaces, which he almost found amusing. It would have been more amusing if some people didn't actually believe his interests had changed because he had announced that he was gay. But he smiled politely as people suddenly shied away from Quidditch gifts.

Seamus had been one of the people to give him a necklace, although Harry was never really sure whether it was a joke or not. Seamus had put a black choker around Harry's neck and grinned deviously. Harry had felt mortified and had asked Seamus why he would ever buy him a gift like that.

To which the Irish replied, "It gives off the whole badass look, or it would if you didn't wear those glasses. Some guys get turned on by that. A lot of girls, too. Hell, I know I do." Seamus had proceeded to hook his finger under the chocker and yank Harry forward. Harry had, of course, stumbled off with some sort of excuse. It made him uncomfortable at times how Seamus came onto him. It wasn't a secret either. The Irish Gryffindor had clearly expressed his excitement when Harry turned out to be gay.

Harry sighed. "To hell with it." He grabbed the chocker and dropped the glasses. He didn't fucking care at this point. His inner monologue was completely controlled by that infuriating blond. He was going to go absolutely mental. Grabbing some money, he shoved it into his pockets and left as quickly as possible. He was so unfocused that he counted it as a miracle that he didn't splinch.

Vogue was as bustling as always, and hordes of people chanted along to the song, slurring the lyrics. The music blasted loudly enough that he could feel his chest vibrate. And there were so many people that it was hard to concentrate. Impossible to think... Harry let off a slight smile, and he slunk over to the bar. The bartender, someone different than the last time, gave him an odd look when he asked for red wine, but obliged. Harry eagerly gulped it down and closed his eyes, letting his mind drift in the noise.

The fun didn't last long without much to do. After the fourth glass, he was full, and he spun his glasses around, poking a bead of red wine that remained and looking at it distastefully. While the many people could also distract him from Dr – from other matters, they began to irritate him. The constant contact, as people bumped into him, made harry feel on edge.

He was beginning to feel like he might just stnap and attack someone. The music was beginning to be grating, too. With every one, people sang more and more loudly, and his head began to pound. In fact, with a headache, he tried to push the sound away. Silence was replaced by his desperate cries of anger at Draco for abandoning him. As if his life hadn't been miserable enough before he had false hope that Draco could tolerate him.

"You." There was a familiar voice behind him, and Harry turned around to see Ginny standing less than a metre away from him, her arms crossed over her chest and a scowl on her face. "Why are you here?" I was told you were supposed to be in Egypt for another while." Harry opened his mouth, but nothing came out. There was no explanation. Shite. He hadn't even thought of running into someone. What if Ginny told Kingsley? Hell, what was he going to say to Ginny? _Oh, sorry, Ginny, I was just talking a brief break from my vacation – fancy seeing you here!_

"Speechless? Do you have any idea how many times I've worried about you? Ron and Hermione clearly are worried, too. Do you have a clue how many times I've seen Hermione around recently with puffy, red eyes? She won't admit it, but I know she's concerned about you. You bastard. Do you have any respect for your friends?"

"Ginny..." Harry finally croaked out. His words slung together, and he swallowed the knot in his throat. He hadn't meant to worry anyone. He hadn't even thought about that. How many people now were wondering what happened to him?

"Are you even going to explain yourself? You're sitting at the bar, dressed like a completely different person. Look at you, the choker and – Is that the shirt I gave you?" Her voice was still sharp, although she seemed to lose some of her consistency. She paused and stared at it.

"Er, yeah, it is. I thought I'd try on a new look. You know, see if it was –" Ginny's face rearranged into one of determination and anger again, as she shoved him in the chest. Harry tilted and nearly fell off of his chair.

"I don't care about your little excuses. We're not going to get on any tangents. I want to know straight up why the hell you find it important to lie to everyone you care about. Everyone who cares about you..." He didn't know what to say to her. The only thing he could think of was the truth. Would Ginny freak out? What if she accidentally let it slip or thought he was dangerous? Well, he was dangerous, but that was beside the point. "Harry, if you're fighting something, you don't have to do it alone." Her voice was immediately gentler, and Harry knew he could trust her. Vampire or not, she would help him. She had to. If he didn't have friends, he had nothing and no one.

"Ginny, I'm fighting something bigger than you can possibly imagine." It was accompanied by a humourless laugh, and she sat down next to him. "But you have to promise not to tell anyone..."

"But what about Ron and Hermione?"

"They already know. Hermione wasn't crying because she was worried why I disappeared. She knew that. She's worried how to bring my back."

"Wait, they already know?" Harry nodded, and her expression transformed into that of hurt and betrayal. Harry felt bad, but before he could say anything else, she spoke again. "Just do me one favour – cut out the cryptic. You at least owe me that if you've kept me in the dark this long." Harry couldn't help but agree.

"I'm a vampire, Gin." There was only shock. Her eyes widened, and she shook her head several times as if 'no' would simply solve it. Then:

"Oh, you sick bastard. Why would you come up with a lie like that? You think I'm an idiot? I can't believe you. Fuck you!" She started to storm away. Harry's heart tore into tinier pieces than it had been before. There had to be some way to prove to her that he wasn't lying. His teeth!

"Gin, just look!" Her hair tossed back as she threw him a final dirty look, but then she paused. Harry felt his teeth extend. It was slightly painful without much thirst to accompany it, but it at least convinced Ginny. Her eyes started to water, and she took a step backwards, her shoulders heavy.

"No, you can't be... Not you. Not..." She broke down, holding her head in her hands. Harry wanted to comfort her, but as he got off his stool, she looked up and inched away.

"You didn't trust me to keep this a secret? Did you want to die without even saying goodbye?" Harry felt his stomach drop, and suddenly he felt nauseated. Ginny's expression was so pained. "I gotta go."

"Wait!" he called out after her, but she was gone. "Fuck!" With a swipe at the counter, he broke his glass. The pieces stuck into his hand, and blood began to ooze out, dripping down his arms. The people around him stopped and looked fearfully at him, probably mentally judging him as a crazy drunk. He Harry didn't notice; he was too busy running away.

He felt sick. How many things was it possible to destroy in four hours? Clenching his hands, he ran into the alley before letting go and pulling out his wand. He landed with a crack in front of his apartment. Harry felt as if he was going to explode. He barely held back a scream. Draco hated him, Ginny felt betrayed, and he had lost so much blood already that he was beginning to feel faint. He stormed into his apartment and froze.

The scent of Draco was too strong to be lingering. Harry's eyes screwed shut. He had no strength to deal with this. All he needed was to get yelled at by Draco again. Yet if he wanted any peace with him, it was probably best not to snap. He stood, heaving, when suddenly Draco's voice came from his right.

"Potter?" Slowly he opened his eyes to see Draco standing in the kitchen doorframe. Yet he didn't look angry at all. "I'm sorry. I know that I – I overreacted." Was he apologising? "Well, umm, aren't you going to say anything?"

Harry didn't know. He wanted to run up to Draco and hug him, but even a slight movement frightened him. What if he scared Draco away again? Draco shuffled uncomfortably and then scanned Harry up and down. "Wow, Potter, you actually have taste. That's not half bad." He trailed off as his eyes lay on the choker. Harry couldn't help but notice the pink spreading across Draco's cheeks. Apparently Draco was one of those guys turned on by the whole badass thing. "You look different without your glasses. Your eyes look greener."

"They're contacts. Remember, vampires have red eyes – that whole thing."

"Wil –" Draco got not further. Harry attempted to take a step forward, but suddenly found himself too lightheaded to function. He collapsed on the floor, and Draco's jaw dropped as Harry's hidden arm came into view. The entire sleeve was soaked in blood. Harry's wrist lay cut open, and he groaned.

For a moment, he closed his eyes, and when he opened them, Draco was hovering above him. He grabbed Harry's hand and his other hand gripped his wand. "Accio blood-replenishing potion!" It flew into his outstretched hand, and he remained kneeled over, removing the glass and sealing the wounds. When he was done, he shoved the potion down Harry's throat "Why would you keep that a secret? Are you trying to hurt yourself?"

He sounded angry, as he propped Harry's head on his lap. Harry felt nothing but warmth and a tingling sensation flow through him, and he knew it had nothing to do with the potion. Draco was practically _holding_ him. A shiver went through him, and he smiled broadly, almost goofily.

"I honestly just forgot about it. You distracted me." He paused before adding, "Can you stroke my hair?"

"Don't push your luck," Draco muttered, yet he began to mess with Harry's hair. "How the hell could you forget something like that? No – wait – don't answer. We might need to go to the couch soon. The floor's a bit uncomfortable." Harry started to get up, but Draco stopped him. "Not quite yet. You lost a lot of blood. I don't think you should get up yet. Soon, though." Harry couldn't complain. He rather liked nuzzling against Draco's lap. True, Draco was sitting rather still, but he continued to stroke his hair. And he wasn't running away screaming – a plus for sure.

"Why did you come back? What changed your mind? I mean, not that I'm complaining."

"Well," Draco began, "I kind of realised that I was a bit rash. I mean, you can live without your mate, but you go insane. So, I've been told. I want to help you, and – yes – I do have my reasons. I'll tell you them eventually, but I'm just not ready yet. I am – I don't like keeping things from you when I know you incessantly beg for an explanation, so will you promise me not to be like that? Just wait until I'm ready to tell you..."

"Most of that made no sense, but sure." He had never heard Draco stumble so much over his words. It was almost adorable. With Harry's additional nod, Draco barely repressed a chuckle as he pulled himself up.

"And besides, my business is none of your concern, Potter." He gently nudged Harry's head off of his lap and got up. "I should go."

"Glad to see you're back to normal, you arrogant prick," Harry teased. Draco puffed up like a peacock and _hmphed_. Yet Harry could tell that he was holding back a chuckle or a grin.

"With insults like that, it's no surprise you weren't a Slytherin." Before Harry could retort, Draco stepped into the flames and vanished.

* * *

><p><strong>I actually ended it on a high note for once. Gasp!<strong>


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note**: Remember that time I was supposed to update and then I didn't? Oh, yeah, this time. Ahem. This is awkward. But here you go. I'll post two chapters since I'm a lazy bum who forgets to update. In any case, I love you all!

Chapter Twelve

Harry was barely up when there was a knock on his door. Cautiously, he peeped through the eyehole first, only to find Draco fidgeting on the other side. With a grin, he flung open the doors. Draco gave something between a smile and a smirk before rushing inside and closing the door behind him.

"Do you mind?" Harry asked, and he motioned to his hand, mimicking interlacing fingers. Draco shook his head and offered his hand. Harry eagerly took it, feeling a thrill run through him. This was a fantastic start to the night. Yet Draco still seemed twitchy, oddly enough. It didn't seem to be because he felt uncomfortable about them holding hands, either.

"Look, I held back something from you, yesterday." Draco's lips twitched slightly, and Harry couldn't help but think he looked sweet when he was bashful. "See, I'm going on a business trip..."

"What!" That wasn't what Harry expected at all. He wasn't really sure what exactly he had expected, but that... "You were just gone. When are you leaving?" Harry pulled his hand away, feeling stung. Did Draco come back only to rub it in his face that he would go insane? It sure seemed like it. Maybe the blond really hadn't changed. A pout formed on Harry's face and he attempted to glare at Draco.

"I wanted to tell you yesterday, but you were happy. I know that doesn't happen often. I didn't want to spoil it." He nervously glanced at Harry, and although his blue eyes were sincere, Harry couldn't help but doubt him. Slytherins were good at masking feelings and manipulating people.

"Right, and pigs fly."

"Well, some do." Draco looked confused.

"It's a Muggle phrase. That's not the point. It's trying to – Oh, never mind. It's not like you even give a damn." Harry paced back and forth, but Draco's hand shot out and grabbed his wrist.

"No, really, Potter, I want to help you. I'm leaving in three days, and I plan to spend every moment you're awake here. I don't want you going psychopath on me and killing people while I'm gone." He smiled slightly then added, "Not that it would particularly surprise me."

"You came because you care?" Harry asked, shocked. Whether or not Draco had some major scheme, Harry felt the urge to give in. Hell, if Draco might change, it would be best if he just took advantage of this newfound, nice Draco. "Alright, you can stay. But you'd better be here until I fall asleep like you promised."

"So demanding Potter." Draco rolled his eyes and dropped down on the couch, propping his legs up on the table. "By the way, nice boxers. I like the hippogriffs." Shite, he hadn't had the time to change into decent clothes. He _was_ still in his boxers. They were just a pair he had thrown on, and he couldn't help but be embarrassed.

Draco cocked and eyebrow, and Harry nervously bit his lip. He wanted Draco to stop licking his lips. Just looked at his tongue and tracing them, Harry felt his cock twitch. He knew he had to change the subject before silence descended, and he was left awkwardly gawking.

"So – err – girlfriends? Do you have one? Or, I guess I've already asked you that," Harry stumbled, and moved away, shaking his head.

"Merlin, you're thick. Do I have to spell it out for you, Potter?" Draco rolled his eyes dramatically.

"What?"

"I'm gay. I like to shag blokes. My feelings toward women are nothing but friendly. I suck cock..." Draco smirked with the last word. He clearly enjoyed watching Harry squirm, his fingers curling into tiny fists. It was astonishing how quickly he changed from shy, angry Draco to a complete wanker.

Yet Draco was crossing dangerous lines without even realising it. Venom flowed into Harry's mouth. He was testing him in more than one way. And Harry had no wand. He wouldn't be able to stop himself if he tried to attack. With Draco's constant provoking and his way of languidly leaning back and smirking, it wouldn't take much to drive Harry over the edge. That wasn't something he wanted to happen.

"Draco!" His voice was tight, and his hands moved from their strategically placed location in his lap to the armchair, as he gripped the armrests, feeling the wood splinter. Yet with his hand removed, his erection was revealed. Draco merely wet his lips and leaned forward, further taunting him.

"What, you like that thought, don't you? Sucking cock? Imagining it's yours, for sure." His eyes were almost cold as he relished in the power he held so easily. Moving closer yet, he let his breath waft over Harry, pausing mere centimetres away. Harry choked back a moan as the armrest shattered completely, slicing his hand open.

"Draco, please, I don't want to hurt you." Draco immediately withdrew, and he blushed.

"I'm sorry. I forgot... I kinda thought you were someone else for a moment." He straightened up, yet he still refused to meet Harry's gaze. "You have an odd way of reminding me about him." Was that bitterness Harry heard?

"I'm sorry. It didn't work out with an ex-boyfriend or something?"

"You could say that." That was definitely bitterness in Draco's voice. There was no mistaking it this time.

"Must have been a rough break up. I hope he didn't hurt you too much." Harry attempted a smile.

"He didn't break up with me."

"You with him, then?" Harry was confused. If he didn't break up with Draco, why was Draco so hurt by it?

"He's dead, Potter." Blunt as always. Harry felt a drop in his stomach, and he started to stutter half-formed apologies. What was he supposed to say to that? "Don't apologise. Just let it drop for now. Maybe later. Now is... It's just not a good time."

Harry's comfort instinct kicked in as his desire for blood decreased. He got up and sat next to Draco, pulling him in for a light hug. Draco stiffened, but he didn't pull away. In fact, after a moment or two, he even eased into Harry's grip, and Harry felt his muscles relax.

"I hate to do this, but I don't want you to get angry at me. If you stay any longer, I might kiss you. Maybe you should leave." Harry regretted each word, but knew the worst would be if Draco again blew up at him. If he lost control...

"Don't take this the wrong way. And don't try to read too deeply into this." Harry was about to ask what he meant when Draco turned around and leaned forward. And then Draco Malfoy kissed him.

Harry felt his skin tingle. Leaning backwards, he let Draco take control. _Fuck_, Draco was actually kissing him! Through his lips and beyond the mint flavouring, Harry could feel Draco's heartbeat, feel him hum with life. Harry's fingers moved upwards and matted themselves in Draco's hair. It felt soft, and there wasn't a single knot to be found. But besides moving closer to Draco, he continued to let the blond dominate the kiss. Draco's tongue pried open his lips, and he delved inside. Behind the mintines – had Draco brushed his teeth anticipating this? – there was a hint of chocolate.

Harry couldn't help but imagine Draco indulging in chocolate, his fingers sticky and his face red as he blushed from the guilt. A thrill rode through Harry as a possessive growl broke through his throat. Draco responded by letting his hands flicker across Harry's chest, flitting across the sensitive nubs. Harry arched upward, pulling Draco closer and grinding against him. The warm pit grew in his stomach, and Draco's fingers pinched lightly as he bit on Harry's lower lip. Harry moaned as he felt something hard against his inner thigh. Apparently he wasn't the only one enjoying this. Draco's tongue dragged down from his lips, and he went to his neck, nipping lightly. Harry couldn't help but chuckle quietly – a human biting a vampire's neck.

"Oh, my..." Draco tore away as Ron spoke. He gaped at the two of them, and Harry couldn't help but lick his lips with the fresh taste of Draco on them. Despite the feeling urging him that this wasn't completely alright, Harry smirked, feeling smug.

"This isn't what it looks like, Weasley..." Draco stuttered, no longer as confident and suave as he had been while kissing. Instead he looked around the room anxiously. His legs crossed and he winced, glancing over at Harry, looking for support.

"Then, what the hell was that? I'm pretty sure it was snogging, but feel free to correct me if I'm wrong. Enlighten me what it was you were doing."

"I choked on a piece of Drooble's and Draco was simply helping me dislodge it from the back of my throat." Harry's self-satisfied composure simply strengthened when Ron began a coughing fit. Draco looked panicked.

"My next guess," Ron choked. For a moment it was completely silent. Harry practically radiated happiness, but even he couldn't help but feel slightly uncomfortable. In any case, Ron was definitely angry.

"Look, Weasley, I –"

"Harry, would you mind if I borrowed your precious mate for just one second? We'll just be in the kitchen." Without waiting for an answer, he glared at Draco and stormed into the kitchen. The blond meekly followed. But Harry knew that he could at least hear everything going on in there. They weren't being quiet by any means. _I just hope they don't get too angry_.

"I didn't mean any harm. Potter didn't mind, and I most certainly didn't either. I don't see why it's a problem." Draco sounded uncertain of himself.

"I don't care what you meant. If –"

"But –"

"No buts!" Ron stomped his foot. He could imagine the ginger fuming. "Whether he wants to or not, Harry has you as his mate. He's devoted to you. You can't be a slimy git in his mind no matter what happens."

"Yeah, but what does that have to do with me snogging him?"

"If you kiss him, no matter what your intention, he will only be more attracted to you." He was speaking at a whisper, but Harry could still hear Ron. "When you get bored with whatever little game you're playing, Harry's going to be devastated." True, he knew that Draco hadn't _really_ meant this kiss, but he still felt like there was something more behind it than that Draco was just bored. "If I saw him crying, if you hurt him – you're dead, Malfoy."

"Oh, yeah, what are you going to do? Are you going to run and tell Shacklebolt? Oh, _wait_, you can't because he would _kill_ Potter." There was a sudden shout, and a crash. "Get your filthy hands off of me, Weasley?"

"Why? You said you wanted to help; I never should have believed you. I know we all sacrificed ourselves in the war, but Harry did especially. He died to destroy Voldemort. He walked in – Oh, you don't like his name – Voldemort? Voldemort!"

It was a bit like Hogwarts all over again. But then he pictured Ron touching _his_ mate. Harry shivered, barely keeping from running in and teaching Ron a lesson. It would be over soon. "But he didn't die. He had a choice. That's more than you people. And yet you still treat Potter like some sort of God." With those words, Harry knew that they would never settle it themselves. If he didn't get in there quickly, all hell would break loose.

"If you're talking about Crabbe –"

"Among others. What about your brother, Weasley?" Harry burst in to find Ron with his wand pointed at Draco. Harry snarled and barely resisted the urge to lunge at his best friend. "Ron, put that down." He stood in front of Draco, serving as a shield. Even if Draco looked smug, a part of him knew that Draco was just as much to blame for this disagreement – possibly more. "Please, I don't want either of you to get hurt." But Ron continued holding his wand, fingers twitching around the handle. "Ron, please, you're putting me in an... uncomfortable situation. I can't pick you over Draco. He's my mate!" Ron resigned, finally, sighing and lowering his wand.

"Seems like Potter's chosen, huh, Weasley?" Draco's arms wound around him, and Harry suddenly felt elated, as he leaned back into the other boy's grasp.

"If you hurt him, you'd better hide where even a hungry vampire mate can't find you." The threat made Harry shiver, but he knew how Ron could be; with an effort, he kept quiet.

"I don't plan on hurting him, but I'll keep it in mind." There was a final, semi-hostile glare between the two, and Ron stormed out of the room. Unhappily, Harry broke away from Draco's grip. He felt a tug at his heart, but he knew Ron had come for a reason, even if it was now lost.

"Ron, why did you come?" With one more wobbly breath, Ron decided to turn around and face Harry. His arms were crossed, but upon seeing Harry's concern, he relaxed and shook his head.

"Ginny came to us sobbing. I guess she saw you at Vogue from what I understood. I came to tell you that she was going to be okay. I imagine she was upset at Vogue." Harry nodded; she most certainly had been. "Look, I didn't mean to snap at Malfoy, but I'm stressed."

"I get that." And he truly did. In his glee about Draco's return, he had forgotten his frustration and guilt. In a way, that almost made him feel just as bad. Why couldn't things just be simple – just for once? "I didn't mean to be mean, either. I can't help it. Vampire emotions and all..." It was Ron's turn to nod. "Thank you. Was she angry at me?" After a pause, Ron nodded again.

"She certainly wasn't happy. She thought you were crazy not to have told her. She's not going to tell anyone, but her main protest is that we didn't trust her."

"It's not exactly any sort of secret. It has nothing to do with her, and who are we to put her in that kind of a situation? What if someone tells and then they know that she knew but didn't inform the Ministry?"

"That's what we told her. 'Mione is still fairly upset, but I think she's going to be fine, too. She mainly just felt bad."

"Look, I should get back to Draco. But thank you so much, Ron. I'm sorry." He was. How much of a burden was this for them? His life had been stacked with problems since the beginning, and they had always been there to help him. It was more than Harry could have asked for.

"See you later." He watched Ron disappear into the flames before he walked into the kitchen. Draco was sitting in the chair, head resting on the table. He was clearly asleep, and he looked so serene that Harry felt bad waking him. His lips were barely parted, and he mumbled quietly. If the smile was anything to go by, Draco was having a good dream. At least someone could be happy. At least he'd managed to accomplish one thing worthwhile.

Lightly, he brushed Draco's hair aside and ran to his room, grabbing his sheet to cover Draco. The blond shifted slightly as the weight fell on his back, but he didn't wake. The uneasy twinge hit his heart. That was an awful way to sleep. Harry picked Draco up with ease, walking over to the couch. Draco's eyes barely opened.

"William?" he asked before burying his head in Harry's chest and falling asleep again. William, of course. Was that the boyfriend he had mentioned before? It probably was. No wonder he looked so happy. It had nothing to do with him. The reminder was like a slap to the face, but he still kissed Draco's forehead before walking off to his bedroom.

Having given up his own sheets to Draco, he had nothing with which to cover himself. Still, Harry made-do, curling up into a ball. It was still slightly chilly, but he wanted to keep his mind off of that. Instead, he let it drift. Images of Draco whispering his name in his sleep popped up in their places. It was to these thoughts he fell asleep, shivering. It was to the thoughts he also woke up. There had to have been dreams between those two points, but he forgot upon waking up.

"You're lucky I have no work today." Harry pulled himself up, wondering who was speaking. "Also, you're an idiot for freezing yourself." Ah, yes, Draco had slept in the apartment. That brought a smile to his face. Harry shifted right as Draco threw the blanket at his face. Laughing, he grabbed it and wrapped it around himself. It was already warm, and better yet, it smelled like Draco. He couldn't help but take a deep breath into the cloth.

"Oh, sod off, you prick. At least you got a decent night's rest. By the way, you're kind of cute when you sleep." He smiled and would have blushed had he been able to do. But his expression was bashful and said it all.

"Ugh, you're so sweet. It's disgusting. I hope I can take my coffee with less sugar." He sauntered off to the kitchen, Harry following.

"You know what coffee is?" Somehow that shocked Harry. It didn't seem like Draco would know about a Muggle drink. It wasn't very – well – Malfoy-ish.

"How do you think I survive the photo shoots? I'm not completely oblivious to Muggle culture, even if my father wants me to be." Clenching his fists, he let out a frustrated sigh. Quickly, he rearranged his face into a smile. "Well, travelling sometimes does expose me to it as well. I've done a handful of Muggle shoots as well, not that my father knows about those."

"_You've_ done _Muggle_ shoots?" Harry chuckled, trying to imagine Draco's frustration at the inability to fix incompetence with magic.

"What, some people pay really well. Oh, and that coffee –" Draco cut off as his eyes lay on something. "Oh, my sweet Merlin, you have an espresso machine."

"What, oh, yeah, I do. I can fix some up for you if you'd like."

"No need to play house elf, Potter. I prefer doing things on my own."

"So you don't have a house elf, then?" Draco paused and shook his head before he continued running about the cupboards, opening and closing doors.

"Thank Merlin you have preservation spells on these things. And, no, my father wanted me to have one, but I refused." Draco settled himself in the chair and smiled.

"Oh." There was so much he had to learn about Malfoy still."

"You're surprised?"

"I don't know. You don't seem to like your father too much, Draco."

"That's something I'm not willing to discuss with you, Potter," Malfoy suddenly snapped. He coughed before relaxing. "I've told you; he meddles with everything."

"So I've heard." Perhaps he was trying his luck, especially so early in the morning, but Harry needed to ask. "Is there any chance you might – you know – let me snog you senseless anytime soon?" He gave a hopeful grin and nervously fiddled with his thumbs. As long as Draco didn't get angry...

"Merlin, Potter, you're so needy. Maybe. I'll think about it."

"You can call me Harry. We're not enemies anymore. At least, I don't think we are." It was irritating that Draco separated himself so much that even a first name was too much to ask.

"You're asking for a lot of favours... Harry." A grin spread across Harry's face. "Now, let's find out a little about you."

"About me?"

"You seem to be awfully fond of asking questions about me, so I thought I'd put the pressure on you. Weaselette must have been annoyed with this."

"Ginny? Yeah, I mean, she's angry. I didn't tell her, but she's fine now. It was actually why Ron came yesterday."

"Wait, you didn't even tell your own girlfriend about this? And she didn't notice that you happened to disappear and become a bloodsucker?"

"Who said anything about a girlfriend?" Harry chose to ignore the other comment.

"You two broke up?" It wasn't a joke. Draco's face showed actual surprise. Harry barely kept his jaw from dropping. Draco honestly thought they were still together? And the blond had called _him_ thick.

"You're not the only gay guy in the room. Why do you think you're my mate?" This was almost funny. How was he really that oblivious?

"I just thought you were bi or something... I don't know!" He looked away, his cheeks turning pink. "You must have a lot of guys kneeling at your feet. Plenty of boyfriends to choose from..."

"No, I'm not out yet. Hence the fact that you and the rest of the wizarding world doesn't know." He handed Draco his finished – and now slightly cold – espresso, and sat down next to him. While he did look uncomfortable, Draco didn't pull back.

"Me too. My boyfriend –"

"William?"

"How did you know?" Draco pulled back, looking bewildered.

"You were muttering it in your sleep yesterday." Harry's face fell with the memory, but he quickly pulled a reassuring smile back on his face for Draco's sake.

"Oh, well, William was my only one. I – This is supposed to be steering clear of my personal life." Harry nodded absentmindedly.

"William was a lucky guy."

"Less than you'd imagine, Po – Harry. If he were luckier, he never would have died." Draco's smile was bittersweet. _Quick, comfort him_, Harry thought. He leaned forward, but paused. Kissing was his automatic instinct to comforting Draco, but was that really what he needed? His arms instead wrapped around Draco's shoulder, but Draco shook his head. "It's okay."

"No, it's not fair that he died. It's never okay when someone dies."

"Not that. I'll agree that isn't okay. It's okay for you to kiss me."

"I never –"

"Don't lie. Like I said, it's okay." Draco closed his eyes as Harry closed the gap between their lips. This wasn't about him; it was about Draco. His hand cupped Draco's cheek, and he tilted his head back, letting Draco rest against a wall. The blond shuddered, and Harry tasted saltiness as Draco's tears seeped into the kiss.


	13. Chapter 13

Harry leaned his head into Draco's lap. His skin tickled as Draco moved his hand down, stroking his hair. His stomach dropped and his smile widened.

"I really miss being an Auror."

"Hm?" Draco looked down and raised his eyebrows.

"My job, I miss it." He nuzzled closer and Draco rolled his eyes, although his lips did twitch upward.

"I wish I'd done something other than modelling at times." Carefully he lifted Harry's head off of his lap and stretched out on the couch behind Harry. It was strange how boyfriend-ish the whole situation was.

"Why? You always were the narcissistic type."

"Hey!"

"Well, it's true..." Draco could only grunt, but he looked slightly upset.

"I was going to go into medicine. I wanted to be a Healer, but Father thought it was a bad idea. It wasn't fit for Malfoys. After what happened with him, though, I wasn't about to get a position in the Ministry. So, I just went with modelling."

"I could've helped you get a job at the Ministry. Surprisingly enough, helping save the world gives you a little weight." Harry laughed and tousled Draco's hair. Draco pulled back and glared. "You care too much about how you look."

"Some of us have to. And, anyway, would you have at that point?" Harry opened his mouth, but closed it. Not then, probably not. "Thought so."

HDHDHDHDHDHD

Draco's lips slid against his. Harry gasped, pulling him closer by his shirt. But then Draco switched positions, straddling him and pressing him against the back of the couch. He groaned as Draco pushed his hands behind his back and nipped at his neck.

Arching upward, he ground against Draco, eliciting a rare moan from the blond. It was almost like a present. That was what he strove for, that moment where Draco let out some involuntary sound. Immediately, however, Draco corrected himself. He pulled back and jumped into the armchair.

"Don't..." His voice was shaky and his fingers shook. "I'll leave you if you push it, Potter."

"Harry."

"Whatever... Harry." Harry couldn't help but smile.

HDHDHDHDHDHD

Harry's stomach grumbled. "Maybe you should leave." He hated having to tell Draco to go, especially now that they were really getting into the conversation, but it would be even worse if he truly started craving blood.

"It's really that bad?" Draco propped his chin up on his knees and looked over at Harry with a sympathetic expression.

"It's not really like thirst. I don't know how to describe it. It's more..." He couldn't seem to find the right word.

"Instinctive?" Draco asked.

"Well, yeah. I guess that pretty much sums it up. It's not like I have a choice. I just start feeling like if I don't get it I don't know what I'll do. Does that make sense?" Looking down awkwardly, Harry scratched at his nail. He suddenly was at a loss for words.

"You start feeling angry and irritated, like you're going to attack someone?"

"Well, yeah. How did you know?" Draco rolled his eyes.

"I _read_ Potter. I'm not going to go help a vampire without clue about them. I just was curious whether it was true."

HDHDHDHDHDHD

Harry sighed. It was only two days in and he already missed the blond git. It turned out that there was more to him than arrogance and selfishness. It didn't exactly help his situation. Over the past there days he had come to like Draco. It wasn't just the mate part of him saying that either. He could distinguish the two. One was almost like an instinct, a greedy desire to reach out for Malfoy or drink his blood. The other part of him just wanted to talk with him a little longer. There wasn't the hint of lust. It was worse than the vampire part of him. What would Ron and Hermione say?

Leaning his head on his knees and closing his eyes, he tried to picture Draco sitting beside him. Of course, Draco had no feelings toward him. Perhaps he viewed him a little less hostilely, but it wasn't like he would even consider them mates, or, to say, friends.

Mates – unfortunately or fortunately, they already were. But Draco's life had been so much less simple than Harry had ever imagined. Who had William been? Clearly he hadn't gone to Hogwarts. Or, if he had, Harry didn't know him. Maybe it was another gorgeous model.

Whoever he was, why had he died? How had he died? He had wanted to ask, but he knew how touchy the subject of death was. He didn't want to make Draco relive any awful feelings, and there certainly were those... He looked like he felt guilty, although, from what he saw, there was no reason to be. From sixth year he had known that Draco wasn't capable of killing anyone. The only reason he seemed imposing was because of the proud way he held himself upright and his easy-to-quip mouth.

Maybe it was his defence system.

Shaking his head, he pushed himself up and strolled over to the living room. Ron and Hermione had sent some blood earlier. He hadn't bothered drinking it yet; he'd been too busy thinking about Draco. But maybe a little bit of blood would get his mind away from Draco. He popped open the vial and took a sip. It tasted as amazing as usual, but somehow it left an unpleasant aftertaste. It wasn't Draco's blood. Any blood was adequate, but Draco's... Harry shuddered. Blood seemed to have the adverse effect of what he'd hoped.

The kiss – maybe he should think of the kiss... kisses. Draco hadn't held back on those. The thought alone made Harry quiver. The way Draco's hand had slid on the back of his neck – Harry could feel his warm skin sliding against his. Maybe it was just the vampire within him speaking up, but there was something sensual about it, beyond the whole kissing aspect. The fact that they were _kissing_ did augment it, but Draco made something bubble up within him, and he savoured every second of it.

_Good on you, Harry_, he thought, groaning. Why did everything have to suddenly be so confusing? Everything had been easy when it had been more black-and-white. Draco kept his distance and Harry had kept his. They lived in different circles; they were like a mixture. He was the oil and Draco was the water. Or maybe it was the other way around. It didn't really matter. The point was that they didn't belong and that the two of them were about as likely to happen as Ron and Hermione breaking up.

Harry's head hurt. He quit pacing and decided that sleeping seemed to be the best option.

At least he was able to escape while asleep. Well, escape to a certain extent. His dreams were still dotted with Draco, but they didn't have to make sense. And in them, Draco didn't have to be aloof. He could – he could do all sorts of things. It was nice to have a place where Draco didn't have to croon over William; he could croon over him instead. Harry smiled smugly, but it quickly faded. Draco wouldn't be crooning over him anytime soon. He was probably having a blast wherever he was, glad to be rid of him.

All Harry had done was pace back and forth all night. He might as well do something useful. At this point, sleep was useful. Harry went back to his room and fell backwards on his bed before cocooning himself in his blanket. At least that still had the scent of Draco in it. He inhaled and closed his eyes, dreaming of a certain blond in a world where neither was a vampire.

He woke to shaking hands. Someone was throwing him around. Harry's eyes snapped open and he growled, flipping over the person on top of him. It turned out it was Ron. Hermione stood by the side, and she quickly cast a spell, sending Harry flying back. "No time to explain. We didn't mean to wake you up during the day, but you need to come; there's no other choice."

"Come? Choice? What are you two talking about?" Harry rubbed his eyes and stood up. Hermione waved her wand again and Harry's trunk formed itself with clothes.

"Just run, Harry." Shaking, he grabbed the trunk and jumped in the fire. There was the familiar feeling and his stomach seemed to drop to the floor when he landed. He stumbled out into Ron and Hermione's apartment, just in time, and Ron came out after him. Harry noticed the curtains were all pulled. They had been quick but thorough in making sure Harry didn't get hurt in any way. There wasn't even the scent of garlic.

"Hermione did some quick spells," Ron announced as Hermione appeared.

"This way, Harry." She ushered him toward a bookcase. "It's a bit cliché, but I had to think up a place to hide you on the spot." She said a few words in a language Harry didn't understand before walking straight through the bookcase. Harry stared, stunned, but Ron gave him a push. Even when inside the room, he could still see Ron standing on the other side.

"Hide me? Will someone please tell me what's going on?"

"You go, 'Mione. Someone needs to tell him. I'll call you if anyone comes knocking. And, anyway, you need to set up those spells."

"Right, the spells," Hermione muttered. "Alright, Harry, give me a moment. I need to cast a few spells. Just unpack your things and relax for one moment." Relax? How could he relax? They were freaking out, which certainly gave Harry reason to freak out as well. Still, he glanced around the room. It was fairly small and dungeon-like. The walls were made entirely out of stone, and there was very little. The only furnishings were a bed and a mix of a chest of drawers and a desk. A small bathroom stuck out to one side.

"Please tell me what's going on." Harry glanced around worriedly, and Hermione finished one last spell before she pulled back. There were tears in her eyes.

"Harry, I think we were wrong about Malfoy." What was that supposed to mean? Harry's mouth opened, but he never asked the question. Hermione continued, brushing her eyes on her sleeve. "Th – They found out. They know you're a vampire. I don't know who else would've told. I mean, maybe it wasn't him, but..."

"No." Draco wouldn't do that. Harry felt his heart turn to paper and tear. "He cares. He wouldn't." Suddenly the grip in his chest expanded. He couldn't breathe. Harry fell to his knees. "You'll see," he wheezed. A dry cough pulled out of his throat, and his fingers dug into the stone floor.

"We can't be one hundred percent sure, but who else would have ever said anything?" There had to be some other explanation. Draco wouldn't just give him the best three days of his life and then abandon him.

The three best days of his life? Was that even true? For the first time he felt like he had connected with some guy who wasn't one of his friends. Those days had caused him to completely re-evaluate Draco. And when Draco had kissed him – well, he had already gone over this a million times. Behind the joy, the thought that this was _his mate_, he felt like a little kid chasing his crush again. When they had talked about more serious things – about death and the war – Draco had understood him better than anyone else, even Ron and Hermione. So, why would he have said anything to the Ministry?

Rage and fear and horror and hope – everything blossomed inside of his chest and he curled his eyes shut. It was worse than a Cruciatus. Everything conflicted. He didn't know what to feel, what to choose. Were those three days just to break him, just to make it harder?

The denial began to set him. Not his mate – his mate wouldn't do this to him. Rejection was one thing, but turning him in, building him up just to laugh at this like it was a sick joke – it was impossible to take.

"Harry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Hermione hovered, her hand just over his back, trying to comfort him.

"No." Harry looked up to see Hermione crying. She opened her mouth, but shut it as a sick smile twisted onto Harry's face. He looked like he was in pain, and he simply pulled himself up and sat on the bed, refusing to move a centimetre. "I need to hope."

"Hope? Harry, you can't be overly optimistic. I'm all for optimism in some situations, but with Malfoy..."

"It can't be him. I can't let myself think it's him."

"But –"

"No. If it's him..." Harry shuddered. "Merlin knows what will happen. When Draco left me for a day and told me he wasn't coming back I broke down. If he's – after all that – I don't know what I'll do to you and Ron." Hermione nodded, but before she could form a response, the doorbell rang.

"Don't move, Harry. If they know you're here... They can't find out. To die because someone else bit you and ruined your life – it wouldn't be fair." Harry had to agree. She scurried out and answered the door. Kingsley Shacklebolt walked in, looking more scared than Harry had seen him since the war.

"You got my message?" Hermione nodded and Ron's arm wrapped around her as she broke down into tears again. At least she didn't have to pretend about being distraught. If only Kingsley knew the real reason. "Harry wasn't there. Someone warned him. You have to understand, I feel terrible asking, but we have to search your house. Our source suggests that you might have helped. I know this is heard enough without us poking our noses around. You probably just want time alone. I'm so sorry..."

"It's okay. Not really, but we understand," Ron said. His voice was quiet and trembled. Harry could tell he was holding back tears as well. He moved out of Kingsley's way, shifting Hermione as well. As few people followed behind Kingsley and Harry held his breath as they pulled out their wands. If Hermione's wards didn't hold he would be... Oh, God, he would be killed. He wasn't ready for that.

He had spent almost all his life trying to help stop a psychopath from taking control of the world. He had barely had time to adjust to his new life. And then there was the fact that he hadn't even had a proper boyfriend yet. Hell, he hadn't even had sex! What if he died a virgin?

_Alright, Harry, this is much more serious than that. Just think straight_. Taking a deep breath, Harry steadied himself. This was not the time to break down. _Just don't think about Dr - _ The thought cut off as Roberts, one of the Aurors he worked with, stepped in front of the bookcase, waving his wand enthusiastically. It was now or never... Why did such a simple gesture determine whether he lived or died? He had faced tens of Death Eaters, yet if Hermione's wards didn't hold, he was as good as dead.

"Nope, nothing." Roberts strode over to Kingsley's side, and Harry sighed quietly. Today wasn't the day he was supposed to die, apparently. Hermione relaxed slightly and wiped away her tears.

"What are you going to do with him when you find him?" Ron asked. His voice remained unsteady, and Harry could tell that he was gripping Hermione hard.

"I'm not sure there will be much to do. We'll probably have to have a hearing or something. I don't think we can easily stake Harry Potter without showing he's a threat first." Kingsley's shoulders slumped and suddenly he wasn't quite as formal. "I'm so sorry. Of all people, Harry deserved this least. His entire life he's been fighting something. I thought he was finally going to get a break." He sighed before regaining his composure.

"Thank you," Hermione squeaked. "And you can't tell us who this 'source' is?"

"I'm not sure if he wants others to know yet. If so, you'll find out in one of the Prophets." With that he strode out, the others at his heels. As soon as they were out of sight, Hermione shut the door and rushed over to the bookshelf.

"Harry?" Ron followed her into the hidden room and collapsed on the floor. Harry felt sick. At least he wasn't caught. There was just one thing he wanted to do now...

"I'm going to write a letter to Draco."

"What!" Both of his friends looked shocked.

"I'm going to ask him if he did it. If he did, he'd have no reason to lie at this point."

"But we don't even know where he is," Ron said, lifting his head up and looking concerned.

"His father can send it to him. We'll just seal it in an envelope so that only Draco and open it, and then place that one in another."

"And how will he know what to do with it? Harry, you're not making any sense."

"We'll add a note simply saying to send it to Draco. Please, for once, don't question. I just need you to do this for me." Harry felt his stomach cramp, and he leaned over, eyes screwing shut. _Please, Draco, you didn't do this. Just tell me you didn't do this._

"I – alright," Hermione finally said. "But I'll have to do a different sort of spell. I'm not sure how to make it stay shut unless it's held by him, but I can make objects sealed for a few days. It's useful around Christmas." Harry nodded.

"That will do. He'll give up if he realises he can't open it, I'm guessing."

"This is a bad idea," Ron muttered. "But if it'll help you, I can't say no."

"It will."

HDHDHDHDHDHD

Harry paced back and forth in his room. There still was no reply from Draco. He had sent the message almost a day ago. There still hadn't been any sort of reply. He had told Hermione to seal it for three days. Hopefully Lucius Malfoy had no clue what they were up to. He felt a sudden cramp again, and kneeled over. They came and went. He just needed to know that Draco had nothing to do with this.

"Harry? I..." Hermione's voice rang out. She ran into the room, Ron chasing after her. They both looked frightened. In fact, Hermione was trembling. Something was wrong. Harry wasn't sure he wanted to find out what it was.

"What?" The words came out sharper than he meant, and he struggled to his feet. A pang hit him hard, and he began to shake. "No..."

"It was Lucius Malfoy. Draco must have told him. I guess he didn't want to do it outright. Harry, I'm so sorry."

"It's our fault. We never should have told him," Ron added.

"Draco wouldn't tell. He cared." Harry let out a dry sob and dug his fingers into the floor. As his middle fingers scraped against it, the nail snapped off. His sob transformed into a scream, and Hermione clung onto Ron. "Chain me."

"Can't we just –"

"Chain me!" Harry weakly attempted to lunge at them, and Hermione's wand instinctively snapped up. Magical chains bound his arms upwards and his feet to the ground.

"I'm so sorry. I just wanted to help you. I'm so sorry," Hermione blubbered. Her phrases repeated as if she was a broken record, but Harry blurred them out. Draco had told. It hadn't mattered. None of it mattered. Those three days probably were just a joke to Draco. And those conversation – well, he had been a good actor. Maybe he had wanted to believe him at first, but Draco truly had sounded sincere. Those kisses...

Harry wailed as his chest compressed. He couldn't breathe. Part of him wanted to find Draco and tear his throat, rip him to pieces. Another part just wanted to pretend this wasn't happened. Ron and Hermione suddenly seemed insignificant, and he angrily tried to throw himself at them. It could have been their fault; perhaps they were right. The chains yanked him back, but Hermione still jumped before running away.

"We never meant for this to happened," Ron added. And then he sprinted away as well, calling Hermione's name.

* * *

><p><strong>And I end on an unhappy note. Again.<strong>


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note**: Here's the next chapter. Sorry I kept you guys on edge, waiting. You get to see more of Draco, and his motives are finally explained, though!

Chapter Fourteen

By the next day, Harry was worse. He limply hung against his bonds, shaking. The cramps wouldn't go away, and he felt drained. He had been up all day and night. Even through the entire Battle of Hogwarts he had felt more awake. Every part of him was sore; just shifting made his muscles groan and complain.

Harry had given up being angry at Draco. He had no energy to be angry. "Draco..." he muttered. A small whimper left his lips. There was nothing comparable to this. The level of betrayal and pain sliced right through him. It made it impossible to think of anything else. Harry would picture Draco kissing him, but then the blond's face would melt into a sneer as he pulled out a stake.

Why hadn't Draco just done it to his face? That would have at least been quick. Harry could imagine the tip pressed against his chest. "Fun's over," Draco muttered in his mind. And then there was nothing but pain slicing through him. Harry screamed until his throat was raw.

There was the sound of footsteps, and Harry lifted his head. Ron and Hermione appeared. Hermione held a small knife in her hand while Ron held a wooden bowl. "Are you sure you can do this?" she asked. Ron nodded. "Just remember don't break your concentration." She tussled Ron's hair and gave a mirthless smile.

Harry's hello died on his lips, but he continued staring at his two friends with dead eyes. Ron pulled out his wand. "Wingardium Leviosa!" The bowl in front of him remained in the air. Harry wondered what they were doing when Hermione lifted her sleeve and pressed the knife against her arm. Harry saw the blade press into her skin and shook his head wildly, trying to find the words.

Blood was the only thing that would – The coppery smell filled his senses and harry suddenly felt as if his nerves were on fire. His anger at Draco flared up once again. _How dare he tell anyone!_ Harry struggled against the chains, snarling. He didn't notice as Ron started crying or the way the bowl wavered unsteadily. All he could think about was the taste of the blood dripping down his throat. And it was fresh, too. Warm. Another growl overtook him, and he convulsed. That blood was his!

The moment the bowl was in his reach, he crashed into it, slurping up as much as he could. A bit fell to the floor, but Harry didn't notice. Instead his tongue flickered out as he tried to lick the red smeared all over his face. He didn't see Ron stare wide-eyed and horrified or hear Hermione say, "I can't do this anymore," as she stormed away. The subsequent retching sound from the bathroom was only caught by Ron, who left almost immediately afterwards, tinted green.

The taste of blood lulled Harry towards a sleep. For once he felt satisfied and his stomach mumbled contentedly. If only Draco hadn't left him... The moment he was free of these bonds, Harry vowed to get his revenge.

It was only an hour later that Harry became aware of what else was going on. His eyes opened, as he coughed and gagged, acid burning the inside of his mouth. He just knew that Kingsley had been right; he was a threat to everyone. It would be better if he just told Ron and Hermione to turn him in. They would object, though.

It wasn't even remotely likely that they would turn him into the Ministry. He'd have to find his own way to get there. He couldn't do this anymore. Not without Draco, and not with the constant looks of pain and fear on their faces. He was a fucking monster. It had been a mistake to let it go on for even this long.

His thoughts were interrupted as the doorbell rang. Ron rushed over and opened it. Before he saw, Harry knew it was Draco. That irresistible smell drifted over and Harry stiffened. What was he going to do now? Hadn't he already done enough damage? Maybe the Ministry was hiding, waiting for an invite and a confession. The moment Ron saw Draco's face, his fist swung out. Draco barely had time to avoid it.

"You bastard. How dare you even try to come back! Fuck you!" He took another swing, missing by centimetres as Draco ducked again. Hermione came running, and she gasped as Draco came into view. Harry's heart shrunk and grew – patched together and tore apart. He didn't know what to think or do – whether to love him hate him.

"Weasley, stop! Let me explain." But Ron now had his wand pointed at Draco's head.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't do it." Harry wasn't sure he'd ever seen Ron so angry. He shook, and his eyes became slits. Harry could hear how loudly he was panting. This wasn't a joke. But to kill someone – it wasn't in Ron's nature. Still, the threat hung, and Draco's hands instinctively raised so that Ron could see he wasn't holding his wand, wasn't trying any tricks.

"Ron, no!" Hermione tried to reach forward, but Ron shook her off.

"Granger, do a truth spell. I swear I had nothing to do with the Ministry knowing about Harry." He shuddered as Ron refused to lower his wand. Harry didn't know what to say or do, but he watched as Hermione instead pulled out her wand and muttered a spell.

"Say it again, Malfoy, and we'll see whether you're really telling the truth," Hermione said. She sounded sceptical.

"I had nothing to do with the Ministry finding out. My father knew already." It seemed to be true. There wasn't any indication from the spell that he was telling a lie.

"But how?" Hermione asked. "If you're trying to pull my leg – if you told your father, and this is your way of avoiding the truth..."

"I'm pretty sure he asked a vampire to bite Harry," Draco replied after a pause. "I didn't want them to find out. I didn't tell anyone." Harry froze, and Ron and Hermione's faces screwed up in confusion. "Please, just let me see him." Hermione nodded and moved aside. Ron continued staring, but he must have been processing it still because he let Draco move his hand away and point the wand at the floor.

"Follow me," Hermione said. Her mouth still hung open, but she strode over to the bookcase.

"A little cliché, Granger, don't you think?" Draco attempted a laugh, but it stuck in his throat. When he finally stepped through and saw Harry, he froze. Harry's breath caught in his throat as everything fell into place. All of a sudden the pain began to fade. The fear and hurt ebbed away as well. The room seemed to dim as Draco stood before him, and the blond trembled.

"Draco..." He choked on his mate's name and smiled. "I'm so glad it wasn't you." It was impossible to explain how exactly he felt, but Draco's eyes began to water as he managed a weak smile as well. Everything was alright. Well, almost everything. As he approached, Harry threw himself back against the invisible bonds, gasping. For whatever reason, Draco's neck suddenly stuck out, and he knew that if Draco got any close, he'd try to drink his blood.

"What?" Draco stopped, suddenly alarmed. Harry could feel his fear and uncertainty.

"I'm going to bite you if you come any closer. My – my instincts are stronger than usual. I don't think I'll be able to resist."

"You don't have to." Draco took another step forward, but Harry snarled in warning.

"I don't want to hurt you." Ron and Hermione watched quietly, leaning forward as if they wanted to help but didn't know what to say or do.

"You won't. Trust me. It'll be okay." He moved forward, extending his neck and ignoring Ron and Hermione's sudden screams of protest. Harry wavered before lunging forward. The smell of Draco's blood, the rhythmic thud of his heart – it all swelled in his ears. It was impossible to push it away. His teeth made contact with Draco's skin, and he bit down. The taste overwhelmed him.

It seemed to hit every single taste bud; it had no distinct flavour, but instead managed to fulfil them all simultaneously. It was neither salty nor sweet or tangy nor – Harry moaned, and he noticed that Draco did too, leaning into him and wrapping his arms around Harry. But the feeling as if he had been jolted into seeing everything in colour... He panted as his toes curled. It was beyond kissing. Every bit of him screamed _Draco Draco Draco_ as he gulped desperately.

All it took was a light push from Draco to get him to stop. With a single touch from his hands, Harry suddenly felt no urge to keep on drinking, and he pulled back, gasping for breath. Draco was breathing heavily as well, and his face was flushed. His eyes closed as he smiled and stumbled backwards.

Hermione handed him a blood-replenishing potions, which he eagerly swallowed. He had gotten the last drop, he straightened himself up and pulled out his wand. Immediately Harry felt the invisible chains disappear, and he dropped to the floor. It only took moments before Harry had picked himself up and wrapped his arms around Draco. Little pinpricks of warmth seemed through his skin, and he nuzzled against Draco's shoulder.

"You still need to explain what's going on," Hermione said, unsure how to handle the sudden change in Harry's behaviour. One moment he was an unstable monster, and the next he was acting like a cat, practically purring at Draco's touch.

"Right. Now would be a good time to explain William, then," Draco said with a sigh.

"William?" Ron asked. "Here, let's move to the living room."

"Draco's love..." Harry seemed uncomfortable. In fact he was. As welcoming as Draco was being, he still had William on his mind. It stung. But then, why was William relevant to the truth? It made no sense.

"William was a vampire, and I was his mate," Draco finally said. Harry's breath hitched; the infamous William had been a vampire? The thought hadn't even crossed his mind. "I thought – Maybe I should start at the beginning."

"That's always a good place to start," Hermione said quietly. Harry's fingers moved downward, and he took Draco's hand into his. When he squeezed, Draco shakily smiled and squeezed back.

"I was just back home for summer break between fourth and fifth years when my Father wanted to show me something. I mean, I had seen it several times before, but it was more like glimpses since I was six. I guess he finally decided I was old enough. He took me downstairs to a separate room where there were a lot of vampires feeding on willing victims and just lounging about."

"Willing victims?" It was a contradiction. Hermione was just the first one to say anything.

"They want the thrill of it. Don't tell me you didn't feel it when Harry bit you. And beyond that, there's the danger, the adventure in it. Will they go too far? Will this time be your last? It's addictive." All three of them shuddered, and waited for Draco to continue. "Anyway, they occasionally stayed there. Of course, Mother didn't know. Father told me if I told anyone he'd kill me..." Harry's fingers tightened and Draco leaned against his shoulder for a moment.

"But I saw a bunch of vampires, and I went back upstairs. Father explained to me that they actually were in control. At least a group of them were. It's kind of like a vampire government. People only think vampires are dangerous because the oldest ones want it like that, and they're able to get what they want."

"How does that work exactly?" It was Hermione again.

"They keep them – the new ones – locked up, away from their mate and blood for a while. Then they release them. They attack people because they've basically been tortured and have gone insane." Draco's face twisted up and he pulled his hand away from Harry's fist clenching. Harry felt sick. He couldn't imagine anyone keeping them apart just for some sick sense of fun.

"That's awful..."

"Yeah. So, I went to my room, but pretty soon there was a knock. I opened the door and there was a vampire there. At first I thought he was going to kill me, but he quickly explained that I was his mate. I didn't really know what to say to that." There was a pause as Draco took an unsteady breath. From the way he shook, Harry could tell he was holding back tears. But with a final heave, he continued.

"Er, well, he came every night. The clan stayed, so he could. Of course, they didn't notice his absences, or if they did, they probably thought he was out hunting. A lot of them are allowed to do that at first."

"And you just let him come every night?" Ron asked.

"He was someone to talk to. I didn't have that other than with Pansy, Blaise, and Theo, and I couldn't even tell them everything. He never once forced himself onto me, if that's what you're wondering. We just discussed things. He had a lot to say, but he listened to me, waited patiently when I'd scream and go on long rants. Or he'd simply hug me, and everything would – It took a while to realise..." He choked, and tears started to leak out of the corners of his eyes. He stubbornly tried to push them back. "I'm sorry," Draco muttered, wiping them away with his sleeve. Harry leaned toward him, wrapping his arm around Draco and kissing his neck.

"It's okay, love." Draco gave a strangled laugh through his sob.

"It just took a while to realise that I loved him. But then soon afterwards... They – um – well, they killed him." Draco shuddered, and his eyes closed. His voice broke and wavered. "It was right in front of me. His last words were asking me to help, and I – I couldn't do anything. I couldn't stop them."

He finally broke down, his fingers digging into Harry's side, and his face buried in his shoulder. The tears soaked through Harry's shirt, and he quickly wrapped his other arm around Draco, rocking him like a child. A choked sound escaped Draco as Harry ran his fingers through Draco's hair.

It hurt to hear those shattered sounds coming from his mate. Harry's eyes clenched shut; he was unable to help. Draco leaned forward and his lips lightly brushed against Harry's. Unsure whether this was an accident, Harry didn't kiss him. But then Draco's fingers dug again into his skin as he pressed their lips together and desperately kissed him.

He bit at Harry's lips, and his fingers moved up, yanking through Harry's hair. Draco's taste melted with the saltiness of tears, and – though confused – Harry soon reciprocated the action. The kiss was sloppy, but Draco's movements were forceful, almost feverous. The nips drew blood from Harry, and they actually _hurt_, but Harry was afraid to say anything or pull back. When Draco finally pulled back – no longer crying, Harry noted – his lips were swollen and smeared with Harry's blood.

"Er..." Ron first broke the silence, and Draco jumped.

"You remind me of William, sometimes," Draco whispered, looking at Harry with frightened eyes. Harry was sure it was meant to be a compliment, but the words stung. The only reason Draco kissed him with any emotions was probably the same reason Draco's eyes closed whenever they did anything remotely intimate; he was imagining William in his place. Still, now wasn't the time to break down in self-pity. Harry swallowed his hurt and instead smiled as Draco leaned against him again.

"What does this have to do with Harry?" Hermione asked. "Not that I'm not sorry..." Her voice was sincere, and she gave a small, supportive smile.

"He killed William to teach me a lesson. It was his warning that if I ever told, he'd do the same to me." He took a breath and wiped away his dried tears. "But then you told me about Harry. I thought that I could build up my courage to tell you this. I thought you'd be able to help me, and that I could help you. Help William..." Only Harry heard the last part, and he shivered.

"Help us? How could that possibly help us?" Hermione asked.

"Like I said, my father, when he wanted revenge, was sure to get it. He probably commanded some vampire to bite you."

"But we have no proof." Hermione looked unconvinced.

"I know. I'm going to talk with him about this. He thinks I hate all of you guys, so I probably will be able to get him to admit to it. Just can I do this tomorrow? I'm utterly exhausted."

"I think we all are," Ron muttered. "You're not nearly as much of a git as I thought you were." Ron smiled groggily and pulled Hermione away with him. "Oh, you can sleep on the couch if you want. Or you can go home. Really, whatever you want is fine." Draco stood up and was about to pull out the couch when Harry went behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist.

"Or you could sleep with me. Please, Draco, after everything that's –" Draco cut him off by turning around and lightly kissing him.

"Of course, I will. I can't imagine how these last few days must have been for you. But I came as soon as I heard the news. I didn't even finish the photo shoot." Harry smiled and pressed his head into Draco's neck. There was no temptation to bite him. It was nice just to be there with him. Draco was probably thinking only of William, and the thought made Harry flinch, but at least Draco cared enough about him. He was trying to help.

Harry pressed himself against the wall as he leaned on his bed. Draco moved toward the bed, then paused. "Let me try something." He waved his wand, and the room stretched a little. More importantly, where the portal to the living room was, now was a door. "It'll still look like a bookcase on the outside, but once they get past those spells, they'll still have to knock. I'm sure you want your privacy."

He smiled as Draco stretched out and snugly pressed against him. Wrapping his arms around Draco, Harry heard a contented sigh. When Draco's breath had deepened, and Harry could tell he was on the verge of falling asleep, Harry ventured to say what he had been holding back since Draco had come. "I love you, Draco."

"Love you too, William." For an hour after he had fallen asleep, Harry lay there trying to pretend he hadn't heard the last word.

* * *

><p><strong>Now who do you pity more?<strong>


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's Note**: Ehh, so, um. I'm finally updating. *ducks* Don't kill me! I know that I should have updated ages ago. I'll try to update the next chapter within the next three days.

Chapter 15

Harry woke up with his arm curled around Draco. The blond was still fast asleep, and his head was lolled over to one side. He looked so peaceful. Harry was afraid that if he shifted, he would wake him, so he simply lay there, watching him. He watched his eyes move behind his eyelids.

What was Draco even dreaming about? Harry couldn't help but hope that somehow it was him. Of course, the proposition was ridiculous. After all that had happened to Draco, for his dreams to revolve around him – it was a silly thought. If he was dreaming about anyone in particular – well, it was best not to start the day thinking about that. There was plenty of time to be depressed about his insignificance later on.

Instead he lay there, watching Draco's lips curl upward into a smile and his fingers twitch around an invisible object. The time passed quickly enough with Draco curled up against him. It wasn't long before his slight movements turned into incomprehensible murmurs. Whenever they'd sound frightened or unsure, Harry's hand would reach up, and he'd gently brush back his hair. Draco would relax again, the sounds fading away into his dreams.

It was nice to help in whatever ways he could. And there certainly weren't that many. It didn't take long before Draco began mumbling William's name in his sleep. He turned around, still fast asleep, and nuzzled his head into Harry's chest. It was hard to swallow or breathe. He ached. Even with Draco beside him, he wasn't there at all. He was off thinking about his one true love. Draco couldn't help but be bitter.

"William must have really been someone to keep your heart this long." It had been years since that summer, and yet it was all Draco could think about. Harry felt selfish as his eyes clenched shut and he willed the pain to go away.

How could he think about his own hurt? Draco had watched William die. Sirius never had left him, truly. He had seen Sirius arch backwards, become engulfed in that veil. Death had a way of staying with you. If Ginny had died during the war – well – he never would have stopped loving her to an extent. And in any case, he would have felt guilty for Merlin knows how long.

Those thoughts somehow made Harry feel better, and as he ran his fingers through Draco's hair again, he smiled. The blond continued nuzzling against him, and Harry couldn't help but kiss his forehead lightly. Harry knew this was more than vampire attraction. His feelings reached deeper than blood and deep-rooted desire. If it had been uncertain before, now it was definite.

Draco wasn't a shallow git – how he could have ever thought that was beyond him. In fact, Draco had given up everything to help him. He was risking his life, yet here he was, snuggled up against him as if nothing was wrong. Sure, he wanted to help William – it wasn't purely out of the kindness of his heart – but he could have easily turned it down or decided it was too much when Harry was almost caught.

And when Draco had kissed him, behind the approval and possession, there was a spark. He didn't want to let Draco go. Harry felt happy with him. He could discuss things feely, and Draco knew what to say, understood how he felt. Better yet, Draco didn't like him because he was the "Chosen One." Draco didn't treat him like he was better than everyone else. He still wanted Harry to prove himself to be worthy of his time. It was more than he could have asked for.

Harry pulled out his wand. _What time was it?_ "Tempus." 18:47 shone for a moment before fading away. It was already evening. They must have gone to sleep in the morning if Draco still wasn't awake. As if reading his thoughts, the blond began to shift, and his eyes fluttered open. He smiled, looking up at Harry, and gently squeezed his shoulder. "Hey, there, sleepyhead," Harry said, pulling Draco closer and placing a small peck on his cheek.

"Mm, I don't think I've slept that well in ages," Draco mumbled before turning Harry so that he lay on his stomach. "People have told me I give the best massages."

"Is that so?" Harry felt two legs straddle him, and then Draco began kneading his back. With his touch, Harry's muscles relaxed. He seemed to know all the right spots to hit, and he even left a trail of kisses down his back as he worked.

"Like right here –" Draco pressed down, his fingers making small circles – "there's a knot. But it can easily be undone." He whispered the last part into Harry's ear, and Harry barely stifled a moan. Draco was playing with him more than he'd like. The blond knew how easily he could sculpt him. Still, the next few moments were silent, and Draco's fingers worked in a godly fashion, trailing lower and lower down his back. By the time he was done, Harry barely felt like getting up; he was so comfortable.

"You're amazing," Harry muttered, forcing himself to shift and face Draco.

"Oh, I know." Draco sat up on the edge of the bed before stretching and getting up. He walked over to the chest of drawers, and pulled open a compartment. "You wouldn't mind if I borrow something? I didn't bring any of my own stuff." Harry shook his head. It was surprising how little Draco cared what he was taking. He grabbed an old t-shirt and some tattered jeans, and slung them on. Of course, he somehow managed to make it look like a new style.

"How do you do that?" Harry asked.

"Do what?"

"Well, those clothes actually look like some fashion trend. I don't know. When I put them on, I look like a..." He searched for the word.

"Like a bum? I'm a model. It's part of the job description." He smirked, but looked down. "Still, this would work better if they weren't so incredibly baggy. I'm hungry." Harry nodded.

"Are you going home to eat?" He didn't want Draco to leave yet, but Draco merely shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't want to intrude. I can't invite myself over for breakfast. Or, well, what time is it, anyway?" Harry waved his wand, and the time flickered again. It was 18:58 now. "Well, then, dinner. I don't want to be a bother, in any case."

"I'm sure they were expecting you. Don't worry." Harry pulled himself up, and grabbed something similar to Draco. "There, we match." Draco scowled.

"Oh, dear Merlin. That's not a good thing, you know." Harry laughed, and ruffled Draco's hair.

"C'mon, you prick." He opened the door and walked over to the kitchen. Draco followed him, yawning. Ron and Hermione were already there, but they huddled together, whispering. When they heard footsteps, they both jerked upright. Hermione's eyes were red; she had clearly been crying. Even Ron shook. Something was terribly, terribly wrong.

"What is it?" Harry dreaded knowing what it was. What possibly could have happened? Did they find out about him? Did someone get hurt? But instead of looking at him, their eyes traced back to Draco. What – Draco! Were they still on about his danger levels? Harry was pretty sure he had proven himself. Harry threw himself in front of Draco, but Hermione shook her head.

"Mal – Draco, something happened." Hermione shook again, and Harry looked back, watching Draco's smile freeze and then slowly fade away. Harry grabbed his hand, but didn't know what to say. Whatever had happened, it was bad if they were reacting like this. Draco seemed to sense this too. He shook off Harry's hand and stormed up to them. His attempt at anger was weak, and he slid instead into a chair.

"What happened? Tell me!" Harry walked up behind Draco, ready to help him if there was any way he could

"It's – Oh, Ron, you tell him. I can't..." Hermione broke down, clutching Ron and turning her face away.

"What happened?" Draco's voice was barely a whisper this time, and his eyes were opened wide with fear.

"They found Pansy, Blaise, and Theo dead earlier today." Draco went rigid, and he wildly shook his head.

"No! No! Not them... They're fine. Stop lying." Draco's voice broke, and his shoulders started to tremble.

"It was a vampire attack. But that's not..." He shivered, and Draco continued shaking his head from side to side, blubbering "no" under his breath. "There was a message in their blood. On the wall..." Draco sobbed, turning around and clutching Harry.

"What did it say?" Harry could barely breathe, but he asked anyway. Ron gagged before continuing.

"I told you not to tell." Draco shuddered.

"It was him – my fucking father!" Hermione broke free, and ran to the bathroom. There were repeated retching sounds.

"Kingsley thought it was you." Ron's voice was a monotone. "He took us to the – We saw. He wanted to make sure we understood you were dangerous." His eyes closed, and he gagged again, sputtering.

Draco's wails broke through. His hands dug into Harry, and he fell from his chair, down to his knees. The sounds coming from Draco were becoming painful to hear. Harry knelt down next to him, holding him. Draco's grip on him was borderline strangling. Harry had trouble breathing, but he let Draco squeeze as tightly as he wanted. Draco's heart _shattered_. He gulped for breath, and his head fell into Harry's neck. Harry could only hold him, and Ron watched, unsure what to say.

"I – I'm so sorry," he finally managed to get out. Between Draco's sobs, Harry could hear Hermione continuing to throw up.

"You should check on her," he whispered. "I'll handle Draco." Draco pulled back, his entire face red.

"Handle me? You can't fucking ha –" He couldn't get any more out, and simply collapsed again into Harry's arms. Harry stroked his hair, humming quietly, hoping Draco would be able to at least stop crying. He had gotten used to this kind of behaviour for a month after the war, but then it had faded away again. But now Draco lay in front of him, completely torn. When he finally began to settle down – when the screaming tamed down to whimpers – he looked at Harry with dead eyes. "No. Not them."

"I'm so sorry, Draco." He pushed strands of blond hair out of his eyes, and cupped his chin. It _hurt_ to see Draco in so much pain. And it was even worse that he was helpless. Nothing Harry said could make it better. Draco finally pulled himself up, and he leaned forward, kissing Harry. If it could even be called a kiss... He snarled, pressing Harry against the floor and attacking his mouth. Harry couldn't have expected it; the move was so sudden.

His teeth clashed against Harry's, drawing blood, and Harry couldn't help but moan. Still, Draco pinned him up, holding Harry's arms above his head with one hand. His other hand ran through Harry's hair, down his chest – it seemed to be everywhere. His bloodied lips nipped at Harry's skin, down his neck, and he renewed at full force kissing him. His tongue traced Harry's teeth, and he drew Harry's lower lip back, smirking. When Ron stepped into the kitchen to see what was going on, Draco growled, and Harry barely could look up to see Ron edging away, looking frightened.

"No, not here." Draco jumped off of Harry, leaving him panting on the ground, hair thrown in every direction, and his face smeared with both of their blood.

"Draco, I –"

"Shut up." He grabbed Harry's hand, yanking him up. Harry could barely think, barely process what was going on. The mix of the kiss and the blood was potent. Everything except for Draco was out of focus. He couldn't concentrate. So, he let Draco guide him, open the bookcase and lead them in. The door locked behind them, and Draco cast a silencing spell. He pressed their lips together one more time before yanking apart and sneering. "Fuck me."

"What!" That snapped Harry out of the trance. The words were – Well, not that the thought wasn't – But he couldn't! _I'd hurt him_.

"What, did I stutter? I want you to fuck me." _But, no, he doesn't want me_. This was just another way to replace William with him. How could Draco ask this of him? He knew that it was nearly impossible to say no. It was difficult to restrain himself when given such an open invitation from his mate.

"I'm not Willi –" Draco drew his hand back and smacked Harry across the face. There was a sharp pain, and Harry could feel little beads of blood forming. He gasped, and fell back onto the bed when Draco pushed him.

"I said shut up! No one said anything about that. You _will _fuck me." Harry whimpered, screwing his eyes shut. He couldn't give in, not like this. No matter what Draco said, Harry knew him, knew that he longed for nothing more than comfort.

But it was William's comfort he wanted. If he couldn't have William – well, Harry was the next best choice. But Harry couldn't let that happen. As much as he wanted it, he didn't want to be used as a replacement.

But then Draco's hand reached down, unzipping his hands, reaching behind his boxers, and grabbing – _oh God_. Any coherent thoughts melted away as Draco quickly yanked his boxers and pants down. "Now, like I said. You're going to do it." Harry let out a strangled sound as Draco's mouth moved lower. Then there was only the briefest moment of warmth. Harry's head hit the wall as his hips jerked forward, but the pain barely even registered. Draco moved away, smirking, and suddenly there was a tube of lube sitting on the bed beside them.

"C'mon, you have to know what to do? Haven't you wanted to fuck me from the beginning anyway?" Harry couldn't remember how to shake his head; instead, he nodded. "Haven't you wanted to feel me under you, writhing, sweating, pulsing with life?" Harry could barely swallow; the venom crowded his mouth. "Haven't you wanted to make me come?" The challenge stood for a moment as Draco cocked an eyebrow, and Harry couldn't restrain himself any longer. Fuck it. If this was how he was going to play it, then let it happen.

Harry lunged at Draco, pinning him to the ground and kissing him brutally. He ran his fingers through his hair and plunged in with his tongue, probing, tasting, feeling. Draco moaned beneath him, and Harry smirked into the kiss. His entire body vibrated. This was what it was like to be alive. With a forceful jerk, his hands tore his own t-shirt off of Draco, and he moved downward, licking his chest, feeling the heart beat faster beneath him. Harry placed an ear to the chest for the briefest moment, then moved back, taking a nipple in his mouth and gently sucking. Draco arched up into him, muttering incomprehensibly.

"You're mine. You got that. _Mine_." His hand worked at the pants with ease, and he pulled them down. Finally, he could admire Draco in all of his glory. The blond simply lay on the ground, panting, hard as a rock. His neglected cock wasn't left untouched for too long, though. Harry took Draco into his mouth quickly, easing his way down until it was entirely engulfed. He could feel Draco tense beneath him, feel the blood rush into his cock. Harry pulled back, swallowing the venom and wiping his mouth. Before Draco could even make a noise protesting the lack of contact, though, Harry was taking him again, licking and swirling his tongue around the weeping tip.

He could tell when Draco was close, and pulled back, a smirk across his face. Moving over to the lube, he coated his fingers liberally, pressing one into Draco. The blond's scream was cut off as Harry roughly kissed him, absorbing the sound. When Draco had relaxed, he added another finger, stretching them. Draco whimpered beneath him, but Harry merely continued to place kisses down his neck and chest. "Shh, baby, everything will be okay." Draco merely shook his head, and Harry scowled, stroking his hair. Humans were so fragile.

He added one last picture, cringing at the pain when Draco's eyes fluttered open, hissing when Draco made more horrible sounds. His mate _was_ going to enjoy this. Carefully, he pulled out, coating his own cock. Before he could, Harry had a sudden desire. Quickly, he picked Draco up, leaning him against the pillows. Then his head went down. The puckered hole was practically an open invite. Harry's tongue slid in, and Draco's impatient drones were cut off with a gasp of shock. His toes curled, and his hips jerked upwards, eager for more. Harry went deeper, feeding off of the sounds that Draco was making.

But he could barely wait any longer. His own skin tingled, and he wanted to feel Draco contract around him. He wanted to burry himself deep inside that – Harry moaned, and pulled back, positioning himself above Draco. "This is it, love." Draco nodded, looking at him with wide, blue eyes. Harry eased himself in, groaning. It was better than he could have possibly imagined. Pressure surrounded him from all sides, and he threw his head back. It was nearly impossible to restrain thrusting in. But Draco needed time to adjust.

But the time Draco was ready, Harry licked little beads of perspiration off of his forehead and thrust. He must have hit a spot inside of Draco because the blond made a completely new sound – strangled and all too wonderful. Harry aimed, hitting it again, watching Draco throw his head back and gasp. And then there was that own feeling of warmth and completeness. Being with Draco in _this_ way – Harry could barely comprehend it. He felt the warmth grow in his stomach. His own stomach tightened, and his jaw began to ache. He was hungry for something more. Draco's fingers suddenly clutched him, and he came in spurts across Harry's chest. Yet as close as Harry was, there was something more he needed.

Throwing his head back, Draco deflated, a smile upon his lips. But Harry didn't see the smile. He only saw the skin and the gentle thud of the heart beneath it. Blood was there beneath that skin, and Harry could practically taste it. In one swift movement, he moved down, slicing through the flesh with his teeth as easily as breathing. His mouth exploded, and as he drank, he finally exploded, pushed over the brink with that taste. He wanted more and more. It was barely enough, and even after he lay flaccid inside of Draco, he continued to drink, ignoring the fists beating at his chest. They slowly died down. Harry didn't see Draco's hands limply fall to his side, or hear his screams die away.

It was only when he had drunk to the point of exploding that he pulled back and saw the damage. Draco was whiter than ever before, and his entire neck was coated red. Harry froze. "No, Draco! No!" Quickly, he leaned down, feeling his neck, scrambling, trying to get a pulse. "Please, Draco..."His hands shook, and he barely found it. It was weak – weak enough that if he didn't get help within the next minute he could die. There were no blood-replenishing potions in the room, and as Harry scrambled toward the door, he realised that by the time he found it, Draco would be dead.

There was only one thing left to do. Harry reached up, using his teeth to slice his own skin. Immediately his blood poured down his arm. Harry reached over to Draco, propping him up and placing his hand on his lips. "Drink, dammit!" Draco sputtered as he tasted the blood, but Harry forced it down, quickly making the cut bigger. This time Draco definitely reacted. He began to breathe again.

"C'mon Draco..." His chest relaxed, and Draco took small breaths. He was asleep, good. "Oh, God, what have I done?"

* * *

><p><strong>Oops, and I leave you with a cliffhanger...<strong>


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's Note**: There, I didn't leave you in suspense for long this time, did I?

Chapter 16

Harry had barely caught his breath when Draco started screaming. He remembered the insurmountable amount of pain. It had felt as if his bones were shattering and someone had poured liquid fire into his veins. There was nothing he could do now. The process was taking place. When Draco began having spasms, Harry felt his breath catch in his throat.

"Draco, I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry..." He grabbed Draco, feeling his body twitch beneath him. Dry sobs wracked him, and he collapsed on the bed, burying his head into his knees.

Draco would never forgive him when he woke up. The last thing anyone wanted was to be a vampire. And yet he had managed to fantastically fuck everything up. And who would his mate even be? Harry would chase after him, but Draco would only have eyes for someone else, wouldn't he? Screaming into the cloth, he tried to decide what to do.

Was he supposed to tell Ron and Hermione? How would they react? And how would he even explain it? _See, Draco wanted me to fuck him, and then I kind of lost control – my bad!_ Growling, he reached for the wall, punching with all his might. The stone broke, and Harry felt his entire hand and wrist shatter. His scream echoed around the room, and as he pulled his hand out, he yelped at the bloody mess.

Pain shot up and down his arm. He didn't need to even attempt to flex to realise that he had managed to break a good deal of bones. Looking back down at Draco – who had now become still, despite his face being scrunched up – he used his good hand to prop the blond's head on his lap. Slowly he stroked his hair, staring down at him.

"Why did you have to push it? I'll never be William." He didn't by any mean blame Draco, but he just wished he had thought it through. Draco had been so desperate for William's comfort that he had jumped at Harry, knowing it would be impossible to push him back. After all, he would have had to be crazy to say no to his mate.

But then again, maybe he had been crazy saying yes. It wasn't like he could have resisted. When Draco had wrapped his hands around him and looked at him like that – Harry shuddered. It made his cock twitch just thinking about it. And now was definitely not the time to get a hard-on. He looked back down at Draco and clenched his eyes shut. In just a few hours he would be waking up with newfound powers and a certain fury at him. Of course, it was a well-founded one. _Now I'm just going in a circle_.

Harry lay down, careful not to put pressure on his hand. It throbbed and shook. Just looking at it – skin peeled and bone sticking out – he felt and urge to vomit. But then he looked back at Draco and sighed, shifting again to an upright position. It was difficult trying to do everything with one hand.

Sighing, he reached over, picking up Draco with both. Pain shot through him and he screamed, but he didn't let go. He merely lowered him slowly onto the floor. Then, he uncovered the blankets Draco had been lying on. Now he had to pick him up again. It was almost impossible not to drop him. It felt as if all the bones were re-shattering when he laid him down on the bed again.

Whimpering, he cradled his own arm before lying down next to the blond. Using his good hand, he covered them with the blankets. At least now Draco wouldn't be cold. That had been worth the pain.

Oh, God, he was lost. Here he was, turning Draco into a vampire and worrying about him being cold... Life really had it in for him, didn't it? As Draco started whimpering, Harry began humming, stroking the blond's hair again. He could feel Draco relaxed under his touch and smiled, placing a kiss on the back of his neck.

"You silly, gorgeous boy – why did you have to tempt me?" Of course, it was more than that. Draco's best friends had been killed. He couldn't imagine how he would have reacted if he found out that Ron and Hermione were dead. Harry shuddered, shoving that thought away. That was the last thing he needed to think about right now.

Slowly Draco eased into sleep. He was calm, and his breathing was deep and steady. A small smile formed on his lips, in fact. Harry couldn't help but smile as well for a moment, ignoring the pain and the fear. At least Draco could enjoy himself while he was still oblivious to what had happened.

Harry couldn't sleep. Every time he went to close his eyes, he pictured Draco gasping beneath him, blood pouring down his neck. Then it'd flash to him dead, flash to a gravestone. Had he done the right thing? Would it have been better to let him die?

Now he was stuck in vampire form forever, dangerous with a second death looming above his head. What if the Ministry found both of them? How would it look for Ron and Hermione then? Kingsley could probably understand them protecting Harry, but two vampires, and a Malfoy on top of that... Harry stifled a sob.

That was it. He had to do something. He had put them through enough shite already. Draco had vowed to help him, and look where it got him. He couldn't wait until he hurt either Ron or Hermione. When would he decide he had done enough damage? What would it take? He had to go to the Ministry and turn himself in. There was no other way. If he didn't do it now, he would keep on putting it off. And he didn't want to be there to see Draco swooning over someone else. He had enough with William's constant mentions. If Draco's could bear to even touch him...

"I'm sorry, love." With that Harry got out of bed, reaching over for clothes. He found something decently respectable, but before he could put it on, he pointed the wand at himself. "Scourgify." That would have to do for now. He had no time to take a shower, and it would wake someone up. If Ron and Hermione found him, they would try to stop him, and he couldn't have that happening.

Quietly he got dressed. Waving his wand, he muttered, "Tempus" under his breath. 5:49 flickered in front of him. The sun would be up soon. Well, not too soon, but soon enough. There was enough time to run to the Ministry and get there in time before Kingsley, still.

Grabbing his invisibility cloak, he threw it over himself, and cast a spell around him to block muffle the sound of his footsteps. The door opened without a sound, and he carefully shut it. No one seemed to be awake. That was a good sign. He opened the main door and slowly eased out.

With an unfortunately loud crack, he Apparated to the telephone booth in front of the Ministry. The booth slid down, and when he stepped out, there was no one in sight. There would be guards, but they would be easy to get by like this.

When the elevator door opened in front of him, he glanced around just to make sure one final time that he was alone, and slid in. Automatically he grabbed on, making sure he didn't get jerked about too much. This was like routine to him. _I work here_. _Worked._

It was strange seeing the Ministry lacking it's usually energy. Without any of it, it seemed empty, and not just in its lack of people; it had an abandoned feel to it. He remembered last time it was like this, when he had come with his friends. When Sirius had died... Harry swallowed heavily as he left the elevator.

The Minister's door was only a bit over. It creaked open, and Harry slipped in. The room was empty, although papers were scattered all over the tables and floor. "Tempus." It was now 6:17. Kingsley would be here soon. Harry placed his wand and invisibility cloak down at the door and moved over by the desk. Slowly he slid down, sobbing again, dryly into his hands. "Fuck." He never thought it would come down to this. There had been no goodbyes, although maybe it was better that way.

Why had he been drunk that one night? It had introduced him to Draco – the _real_ Draco – but it had also been the beginning of the end. Here he was, ready to get captured by his friends. Ready to get killed by his friends. Of course, they wouldn't trust him if he said he was safe. He had staked a good few vampires who had said that.

Only, they probably had been safe. How many lives had he ruined? How many people were only looking for their mates, trying to escape the constant fear of becoming something they had never asked to be? Harry shuddered. He was no better than the Death Eater; he had murdered innocents as well.

Only he wasn't innocent. He had almost killed Draco. Worse than that, he had transformed Draco into the same thing he was – the same thing he loathed about himself. "Just try to forgive me," Harry muttered, pushing his knees up to his chest. Just as his eyes closed, there was a sound behind the door. Footsteps were approaching, and Harry could smell Kingsley. Oh, God, this was really it. He might as well face them standing up. Jerking up, he winced as his hand rattled. It hurt like hell.

"But we'll need to –" Kingsley froze as he saw him. There were two other Aurors next to him, and both immediately reacted, wands pointed at Harry. He simply raised his hands in the air.

"Shite, we don't have any stakes," one of them muttered. It was Roberts. Apparently he was trying to becoming Kingsley's new right-hand man. Still, Kingsley ignored him and glanced down, seeing Harry's cloak and wand.

"Curious," he muttered.

"Sir, he's still dangerous." The other man came into view. It was Thomas, another Auror Harry knew. Harry scowled, waiting for someone to attack.

"If none of you are going to do it." Harry instantly felt himself bound, and fell to the floor, screaming in pain as he fell on his crushed hand. Whimpering, he tried to shift the weight off of it, but found himself immobile. It shot up his arm, stabbed him. He could feel it fall apart.

"He just turned himself in," Kingsley said, looking at Harry as if he didn't understand. "No vampire has ever done that."

"He's probably just extra clever," Roberts said. "Aren't you, Potter?" Roberts spit on his face, ignoring his whimpers, and Harry screwed his eyes shut.

"No! I don't care what he is or how dangerous he is. You will not spit on anyone's face." Kingsley was angry. Roberts shrunk back.

"But sir –"

"No."

Why couldn't they just kill him? Hadn't he been humiliated enough? And Draco – oh, God, Draco.

"I'm so sorry," Harry choked out before he could help himself. Kingsley's eyes immediately swivelled back toward him.

"Sorry for what?" he asked, leaning over, although he stayed at a safe distance. Harry shook his head, refusing to open his eyes. They were so close to doing it. Where was the fucking stake? He had to convince them to do something. Harry's eyes shot open, and Kingsley's jumped back. _That's right. See the red. Remember I'm a monster_.

"He – We're going to need a trial. I don't think we can just kill Harry Potter and get away with it." _No! _He had come all this way to be denied death – of all things?

"But, sir, I think Roberts is right," Thomas muttered. "He's a vampire. That's not Harry Potter anymore. I mean, you even saw his red eyes." Kingsley shook his head.

"But the public will still. We'll need to take him to Azkaban to keep him somewhere safe. There's something wrong. He turned himself in." He cut off Roberts who was about to speak. "I know he's a monster, but I know how Harry functions. If he had wanted to fight us, he wouldn't have let us get him that easily."

"That isn't Harry Potter anymore though! Sir, I can get a stake, and we can just say that he attacked us –"

"Lie to the public, Roberts? That's your genius solution to this? Clearly you've learnt nothing here. No. The boy will be taken to Azkaban until I figure out what to do with him. If I here of any 'accidents' on the trip, I'll make sure to it that you lose your job. Am I clear?" Roberts nodded.

This was absurd. All he had wanted to do was die. It was standard procedure. You find a vamp, and then you stake it. But yet again, he was deemed "special". Yet again, his "Golden Boy" status got in the way of everything else. He couldn't just be treated normally, could he? It had to be complicated because of something he didn't even ask to do. It was absurd.

Harry felt a tickle in his throat, and before he could stop himself, he started laughing. Roberts, Thomas, and Kingsley all jumped back, staring at him, bewildered, but Harry didn't even notice. He couldn't stop laughing.

HDHDHDHDHDHD

Roberts grabbed him and continued pushing him forward as if he had to be led. Harry felt an urge to simply tell him that he could walk fine on his own, but that would require talking to him. And that was the one thing he had vowed not to do. Kingsley wanted to prove that he was innocent – that much was clear. Roberts had been trying to ask him questions all the way down the halls.

"This place gives me the fucking creeps." Roberts shivered, giving Harry a shove. His hands were tied firmly behind his back with magic, so when he fell to the ground, he couldn't catch himself. Roberts chuckled. "But I feel better already."

Harry's jaw clenched, and he felt an urge to shut Roberts up forever. The thought scared him. Of course, Roberts had practically licked his shoes when they worked together. That's how it went, Harry supposed.

"Here it is. How do you like this for a brand new home?" Roberts picked him up and turned him around to face a jail cell. Harry said nothing. "Look, I don't know what you're trying at. Maybe you did this because you like the attention. All I know is you're a monster, and it's my job to kill you. I was hoping you'd give me a reason to, but, then again, we know that Kingsley wouldn't believe me. You little shite, you took my job when you were alive. Now that you're dead, you're still his favourite." Roberts sneered, opening the door and shoving Harry in by his broken hand. Again, pain hit him, and he screamed.

"There. That's better, isn't it?" He smirked, slamming the door behind him. Harry felt the bonds release, and he scurried back against a wall. He had known Roberts wasn't the nicest guy, but this was a side of him he hadn't wanted to know. Of course, he had been in Slytherin, but he had fought on the right side of the war from the beginning. Yet now he was acting like a right prick. Harry's eyes clenched shut, and he pulled his legs up to his chest, resting his forehead on them.

Someone came over, and muttered something into Robert's ear. Roberts looked back at him. "So, Dementors don't affect the un-dead, do they?" He smirked as if this was the best news he had heard all day. Although, Harry didn't quite understand – if he was so keen on hurting him, why wouldn't that just make him angry? "Garlic. We're going to need lots of it. Line up the doors with it. Make sure he suffocates a little. It can't be enough to kill him though. Shacklebolt wouldn't want his precious boy dead." He smirked and walked off, his shoes clicking on the tiles behind him.

A shudder went through Harry. He could remember the burning in his throat last time he had smelt garlic. He had thought he was going to die. He felt as if he were wilting and drowning. If they lined the doors, he could only imagine what it would do. Harry pushed back further against the wall, staring wide-eyed as the guards glared at him.

"Harry Potter in Azkaban – times certainly do change," one of them muttered. Then they continued to silently stand.

Harry waited, horrified that every second brought the garlic closer. It took a good hour for it to come, but when it did, Harry smelled it before it was even in sight. He let out a sudden yelp, and the guards glanced back at him, confused. "What's he playing at?" one of them asked. But then it got closer, and even they noticed Roberts carrying it.

There was a decent amount. Harry's nostrils began to sting, and it was suddenly hard to breath. His eyes became blurry, and he barely could watch as they hung it up. A gentle _thud_ in his head slowly expanded until it felt as if someone were pounding a rock steadily against it. Every part of him screamed. He had to get away, but there was nowhere to move. His sobs were ineffective, only drawing more air into his lungs, spreading the feeling through him. It was hard to focus. He could hear Roberts chuckling to himself...

"Not so tough, now, Potter." He wanted to retort for once, call Roberts a coward, but his jaw no longer knew how to function. Everything was getting a little dark at the edges. He just needed to close his eyes for a little bit and everything would be okay. Harry felt pain, and then only saw black.

HDHDHDHDHDHD

"Harry!" He slowly blinked. Someone was calling his name. It barely pierced his conscious, but it was still there. He had to wake up. It sounded an awful lot like Draco, actually. Something started to come into focus in front of him, something pale – a person. Harry breathed in. There was the garlic, but beyond that, there definitely was Draco as well.

Harry's eyes opened as everything came into focus. He felt like hell, but Draco was standing in front of him. Flinging his arms around him, he squeezed, burying his head into his shoulder. His hand, oddly enough, didn't hurt, and Harry flexed, feeling it whole once again.

Draco was here in front of him. He had to be dead. Otherwise Draco wouldn't be here. Harry yanked his chin down, pressing a desperate kiss to the blond's lips. He could taste the vanilla and another, unfamiliar bitter taste. But it didn't matter what he tasted like. What mattered was that he was here. Pulling his fingers though Draco's hair, he noticed the blond moan quietly, and he responded by pressing Harry's shoulder's back against the wall. But before anything else could happen, a voice interrupted.

"Curious," Kingsley Shacklebolt muttered. Draco pulled away.

"I told you I was his mate."

* * *

><p><strong>Curious indeed. (Nine chapters left, guys!)<strong>


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

"Draco, what's going on?" Harry could tell that Draco was in some sort of pain. It only took a moment to inhale to realise the issue. Harry started coughing violently as the garlic re-infiltrated his lungs. It burned him to his core, and again he started to feel woozy. It had been there too long. Even with Draco now here, he didn't know how long it would last until he would pass out again.

"Minister, you have to remove the garlic." Even Draco's voice sounded rough. "It's pretty much vampire torture. Whoever put it there..." Draco shuddered and reached out a hand. Harry grabbed it, and Draco lifted him up easily, wrapping and arm around him.

Harry nuzzled his head into Draco's shoulder again, and he heard Draco whisper ever so quietly, "I love you." Harry fought the urge to jerk back and figure out what was going on. Why was Draco not chasing after someone else? Had the bite somehow not infected him? Was he still human? But he had seen Draco go through the transformation last night...

"I'll make sure to yell at Roberts." With a wave of his wand, the garlic disappeared. "Now, I'm expecting a story behind this." Harry took a breath and looked up, only to see Ron and Hermione standing speechless behind Kingsley. Harry's jaw gaped. Had they all come to rescue him? The thought was touching, and left Harry smiling like an idiot.

"The story is odd," Hermione added, giving a nervous smile in Harry's direction. "I would suggest performing a truth spell. It's what we did." Draco paused before speaking.

"Would it be possible for me to have a moment with Harry?"

Kingsley paused. "Give me your wand, Mr. Malfoy. I have to be sure you're not going to try anything. I'm sorry, but it's a necessary precaution. The same goes for you two." He looked over at Ron and Hermione, sighing.

"Alone, if possible?" Kingsley raised an eyebrow, and looked over at Ron and Hermione. They nodded, and he sighed again.

"I've seen some strange things before, but this one wins, I must admit. Just come get us when you're done explaining." Walking away, he continually shook his head. Ron and Hermione threw supportive glances back at them before scurrying after Kingsley.

"What happened?" Harry asked. "I thought I bit you." Draco chuckled, and his eyes lit up. The way Draco was looking at him Harry felt loved and appreciated. It was different than before.

"You did."

"Did it not work, or how are you still able to touch me? Why aren't you angry at me? I mean, who is your mate? Or, does it not matter because I'm a vampire? I mean, is it only with humans that –"

Draco cut him off with a kiss. The blond shoved him against a wall and bit Harry's lower lip, moaning as blood filled his mouth. His hands roamed down Harry's chest, and one slipped up under his shirt, massaging the skin beneath it. Harry's legs quivered, but Draco held him upright, suckling on his lip. Harry lay frozen, unsure what exactly was going on, and shuddered when Draco's lips moved down. The blond's hands shot up, and he slowly undid the first few buttons, shoving the shirt aside and biting into Harry's shoulder. His hand shot up before Harry could cry out, and he covered his mouth.

The pain slipped away, and slowly was replaced by poisonous warmth. Harry felt woozy, and could barely keep from moaning. The feel of Draco feeding on him went straight to his cock. Draco seemed to notice this, and he stuck his fingers into Harry's mouth. "Suck."

It was the first word Draco had said, but he didn't pause long, instead lapping at the pinpricks of blood that had reappeared on Harry's skin. Harry eagerly complied with Draco's command, though, and his tongue swirled around them. Draco's eyes fluttered, and he pulled back, his lips smeared red.

Tauntingly, his own tongue reached out, and he drew his tongue over them. While Harry lapped at his fingers, he worked at the buttons of their pants. The zippers came undone easily as well, and he deftly pulled everything down with one hand. Draco's pants puddled at his knees, and he smirked.

"Enough." Pulling out his fingers, he spoke again. "Turn around." His voice was so commanding. Yet it was better than before. It wasn't because Draco wasn't afraid this time; it was because Draco was going to fuck him. Harry's hands touched the stone wall in front of him, and he felt Draco's fingers ease into him.

Harry barely stifled a yelp of pain. It hurt like hell. But Draco soothed him by kissing him lightly on the neck. It took a moment, but when Draco wiggled them around, something else flashed inside of him. Harry couldn't bite back the sound this time, and he moaned into the wall. That spot lit him on fire. Behind him, Draco chuckled.

"That's what I was aiming for." He didn't say anything else before he removed his fingers. Harry whimpered at the loss, but Draco shushed him. He could feel Draco align up behind him, and he gasped. This was really it. In Azkaban of all places. Harry's fingers curled as Draco buried into him. It was painful – yes – but the feeling of being filled... Harry made a faint choking sound.

"Move." With a swift motion, Draco rammed into him. His hands wound around Harry, and he wrapped his fingers around his weeping cock. With every thrust, his hands jerked, and his thumbs skilfully played over the tip. Harry could barely breathe. He could feel his climax well up inside of him. He was so fucking close.

The only sounds in the jail cell were pants and groans. Their bodies were moist, and every time Draco buried deep inside of him, Harry's hips would snap back to meet him. The blond moaned, changing angles. There it was again! Draco hit the same bundle of nerves inside of him, and Harry gasped out, his head jerking back slightly. He bubbled, on the brink of that beautiful release.

"I'm so close, Draco."

"Then, come, love." With a few more jerks Harry toppled over the edge, coating Draco's hands – although, a bit did slip past onto the walls. It only took a few more thrusts for Draco to come as well, and they both leaned there, panting. Draco pulled out, and smirked. "I got you to shut up." Harry smiled playfully as well, but then glanced at the wall.

"Shite, how are we going to clean this up?" Harry was in too good of a mood for that thought to truly bother him, but he felt slightly uncomfortable as he stared at the mess.

"Scourgify." It disappeared and Draco's smirk widened. "It's a good thing I can do wandless magic."

"But that's pretty powerful stuff. How did you –"

"Shush. I think I should answer a few of your other questions before we have to get back to them. I'm just glad they didn't come back to that." Draco winked and zipped up his trousers. Harry shook his head and leaned against Draco's shoulder.

"So explain."

"You turned me into a vampire last night, I believe."

"Yeah, but I already knew that. What I don't understand is why you're not chasing after some mortal. I mean, I don't really know how vampire laws work, so maybe you can touch other vampires, but –"

"You talk too much." He cut off Harry's babbling with a quick peck on the lips. "Harry, you're my mate." Harry stared blankly and shook his head.

"That's not possible. I'm a vampire. I can't be – Can I?" Draco ran his fingers through Harry's hair and hummed.

"It can only happen if a prior bond between the two was established." Draco shuddered suddenly. "William told me."

"Oh." Harry pulled away, thinking back to when it had happened. Draco had _used_ him. That much was clear.

"Look, Harry, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking straight. I feel like a prick, but it turned out well, didn't it?"

"Sure, you're a vampire. Speaking of which, why do they trust you?" Harry suddenly realised that Draco's eyes were still blue. "Contacts. They don't know?"

"They don't know – not yet." Harry nodded his head. So, Draco was going to explain everything else and then he was going to break the news that he was a vampire. Before he could process much more, though, the others came over.

"What's taking you so long?" Kingsley Shacklebolt strode over, looking slightly annoyed. "This is an urgent matter. We need to discuss it as soon as possible. Before the public has a chance to get too unruly, at least..." He shook his head. "I've scheduled an impromptu court hearing."

"I –" Draco's jaw dropped, and Harry felt his stomach flutter. "I wasn't expecting that."

"Is there a problem with a court hearing?"

"No, but like I said, I just wasn't expecting that. The story's slightly personal."

"If you came all this way willing to free Harry Potter, then I'm sure you wouldn't mind telling a few extra people." Kingsley arched an eyebrow in challenge. Draco scowled.

"When it's all over the press..."

"Surely you can't think that the entire wizarding world will be that fascinated with a simple story of yours. That's rather self-satisfied, if you will."

"It's...unique, sir," Hermione chimed in from behind. "I think the press will be all over it."

"Interesting," Kingsley muttered. "Well, we'd better not be late."

HDHDHDHDHDHD

The courtroom was completely packed when Draco and Harry walked in, hand in hand. Apparently news of Harry Potter's trial had spread like Nifflers after a pot of gold. There wasn't a single seat left empty.

"If anything, Harry, you're more popular now than you were when you defeated Voldemort," Shacklebolt told him. "I mean, when we announced in the papers that people should keep a lookout for you, we got mounds of letters telling us that they had seen you."

"Oh really?" The news didn't even faze Harry. It made sense that when he was at his worst, everyone wanted in. People were always going to prey on the weak. Harry sighed.

"The most ridiculous one we got was from a bartender at Vogue." Harry coughed. There was no way this was the same guy he had seen back there. Merlin, it felt like ages ago.

"He said that you came in and asked for red wine. He knew something was up because he accused you of being different, and you threatened him. Then, he said, you proceeded to flirt with him and try to drink his blood. But he pointed out that he was married, and he said you sulked away. Off his rocker," Kingsley muttered, shaking his head.

"That prick!" Harry couldn't help but exclaim. Kingsley looked at him in shock.

"You know who I'm talking about? Don't tell me this actually happened..."

"No, nothing like it. I did ask for red wine, but the rest of it is a pretty big twist on how I remember it." Harry scoffed, and Draco grabbed his hand, soothingly running his finger over the front.

"Calm down, love." Harry sighed and nuzzled into Draco, immediately calming down.

"Well, what exactly did happen, then?" Kingsley asked, looking mildly concerned at the display of affection between Draco and Harry.

"He started flirting with me. See, I wasn't wearing my glasses, so he didn't recognise me. But when he did, he was pretty scared. I noticed the ring and told him I wasn't interested. I think he was afraid I'd try to turn him in or something. Merlin, I should have." Harry's fist clenched around Draco's hand, and the blond gently ran other one down Harry's spine, squeezing his arse.

"There are people behind you, you know," came Ron's automatic grumble. The pair of them couldn't help but chuckle. Ron found a way to intrude into every moment. Well, almost any. Harry smiled, thinking about back in Azkaban. He'd need a bit of a confidence booster considering what was coming up. He wasn't sure he was ready for a trial yet. What kind of questions were they going to ask him? Actually, that was a rather good question to ask Kingsley.

"What sort of things are they going to want to know at the – err – trial?" Harry asked, glancing over at Kingsley. He looked at him and shook his head.

"I can't get used to the red eyes. If there ever was a time I'd suggest you wear contacts, it'd be now."

"No, people should know that he's not a monster, even if his eyes seem to show he is," Draco interjected. "I'm just saying," he added as everyone gave him an odd look.

"Well, they'll be asking you what you've been doing, talking about your urges and whether you've done anything to act on them." How was he going to respond to that last part? He _had_ acted on them with Draco. Well, that was best left to the trial. He could do nothing but worry right now. "Let's see, they'll probably be mainly focused on Malfoy and his story, if what I've been told is correct."

"I think she'd even change Umbridge's mind," Hermione said, chuckling. Everyone glanced back at her sceptically, and Ron merely shook his head. "Well, probably not..." She blushed.

"Well, I think it should be fine. Just tell the truth and show them that you're fine, and you should be alright. People aren't out to get you – well, not most of them. They just are bewildered. It's not every day that a hero gets turned into a vampire. And besides, this is testing all of our beliefs. We've grown up thinking that vampires are evil. It's certainly a big leap to make." He smiled, and Rogers came running.

"Lucius Malfoy has been apprehended, sir. We managed to get him just as he was trying to leave with his wife." He glanced up at Kingsley, waiting for approval like an eager lapdog. A side glance at Harry showed he was still under the impression that Harry was mute.

"Good. By the way, I've been told the effects of garlic on a vampire are damaging, to say the least. I believe the phrase used was 'like torture.'" He winked at Draco, and Harry smirked as Rogers suddenly found himself unsure of what to say.

"But, sir, he's a vampire. He can't understand us, and if anything, he needs to be restrained."

"Actually, I find him to be surprisingly like the Harry Potter we both knew." Rogers suddenly froze and glanced over at Harry. Harry knew he was thinking back to when he had shoved him and what he had said. "Is there any reason – you seem to be slightly unnerved."

"Um, well, no, sir, you see..." Rogers seemed unsure of what to say. He looked over at Harry, waiting for his secret to be spilled. But Harry said nothing. _At least now I'll have the upper hand_, he thought, smiling as pleasantly as he could manage. Rogers looked shocked, but curtly nodded and scurried away. Sighing, Kingsley led them over to the doors. Suddenly they seemed massive and loomed in front of him.

Which brought Harry back to his current predicament. Here he was standing in a court room, thousands of beady eyes focused on him. Harry froze in the middle of the floor, deaf to Ron and Hermione urging him on. It was Draco that pulled him out of his trance with a simple squeeze of the hand. The blond smiled, and shifted uncomfortably. The wave of murmurs that went up after they entered together only added to the enigma to this situation.

"What is the infamous Harry Potter doing with the son of a Death Eater, an old school rivalry?" Harry could almost hear. He knew the questions would storm in after the trial was over. But first he had that ahead of him. He had to try to make sure no one found out that Draco was a vampire until well after he had shared his part of the story. People were probably already less likely to believe him. True, he had separated from his father, but he still was a Malfoy, and the name held disgust in so many people's eyes.

Just to try to prove them wrong, Harry leaned over, placing a kiss on Draco's cheek. It didn't help with the murmur immediately increased in volume. Draco's hand wove around him and he threw a glare up at the audience – what else was he to call it?

They took a seat and waited for the trial to begin. It didn't take long. Ron and Hermione were the first ones called up to the podium. They stood there, shifting from foot to foot, trying to ignore the fact that thousands of people were waiting to see what they had to say.

"So, you're saying that you knew that Harry Potter was a vampire?" Ms. Thatcher, the judge asked.

"Well, yes. We found out almost immediately," Hermione answered, blushing. "But we thought we could help."

"And you knew it was an offense to withhold such information?"

"I was trying to help him! He's the same person. He just –"

"He just needs human blood to survive." There was a pause as Hermione remained silent. "Is that right?"

"Yes."

"And how exactly did he get this blood?" Hermione paused again and looked away.

"From Ron and I." She said it barely in a whisper. There was a swell of talking from the audience, and Hermione added, "But we gave it willing. We sent it in a vial. We made sure he wasn't around us when he was hungry."

"So, he is dangerous when he's hungry?"

"No! Well, yes, but he can restrain himself. If it really got to the point where he thought there was a chance of an attack, he would chain himself so that he couldn't break free using magic." Everyone seemed to settle down at this. They didn't seem to be sure how to take it, though. They understood that he was dangerous, but they also saw that Harry knew his limits. Hermione got asked a few more questions, although none too noteworthy. Everyone seemed to be losing interest by the time Ron was called up.

"Now, tell me, Mr. Weasley, was there anyone else that Harry has fed off of, if you'll excuse my terminology." Ms. Thatcher looked at him with cold eyes.

"Well, there's clearly Draco –" Everyone's heads shifted simultaneously to look over at the two of them, "- but there's also Luna Lovegood. She wasn't that involved though." Harry felt bad drawing Luna into this. She had only helped once or twice, and it had been so generous of her. The last kind of repayment she needed was involvement with the government.

"Well, unless she's crucial to the case, we won't bring her in. As far as I've understood, she won't be. Now, tell me about this supposed cure you're working on."

"Well, I don't really know much about it. The only other one we found involved a ritual sacrifice of one's mate, and none of us were really up for that one. Hermione's the one with the details." He shuffled. Harry felt Draco's curious gaze, and met it reluctantly.

"You never told me about any kind of ritual," he muttered, looking slightly upset.

"I wasn't considering it, even for a second. That's why Hermione is trying this new thing. I told her she had to find another way. You know I couldn't bare it if anyone tried to hurt you." Draco smiled.

"Understandable. The whole vampire instincts and all..." _No_, Harry wanted to add. _It's something more than that. It's a lot more than that_. But as he opened his mouth, he heard his name ring clearly and loudly throughout the courtroom.

"We now call Harry James Potter up to the stand."

* * *

><p><strong>Anybody want a cookie?<strong>


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N**: It's completely unbeta'd, so all mistakes are my own. Enjoy.

Chapter 18

Harry waited with the entire audience. They had been curious to hear what Ron and Hermione had to say, but this was why they had come. Harry Potter was going to spill all the secrets on his latest vampire adventures, and they wanted to be there to hear them. Harry felt like a spectacle.

He could almost picture everyone munching on Bertie Botts or arrogantly popping a bubble of Drooble's as they gawked. Instead, he averted his gaze to the floor. Without Draco by his side, he suddenly felt defenceless. Draco must have felt it too because when he glanced back – everybody's eyes trailing his – he saw the blond was clutching the armrests with a death grip. Ever the prideful one, he refused to shrink back in his chair. Harry smiled, although it faded quickly.

"So, Mr. Potter, you went out while you were...infected?" Harry nodded.

"Yeah – I mean, yes, I did go clubbing once or twice to try to keep my mind off of things. There was a point before Draco knew where I didn't want to get him involved. At least, I didn't think he would want to..." Harry trailed off, again glancing down at his shoes as if they were the most fascinating thing in the room. He had always hated attention, but he had never been so clearly put on a stool for everyone to stare at. It made him twitchy.

"I see. And did you feel the urge to bite anyone during your many adventures? Or did you, in fact, bite anyone while you were out? May I remind you that you must answer honestly." Harry felt his lips twitch upwards. They had only asked him about biting someone while he was out. They hadn't asked about while he was inside the comfort of his room – well, makeshift room.

"No. I only went out after I was fully satiated, when I knew there would be no concerns. I didn't want to risk hurting anyone. I was as careful as I could be." Ms. Thatcher pursed her lips.

"Well, describe exactly how you felt – should I say, feel – about blood."

"In what way?" He shrunk down as much as he could, feeling cornered. There was no normal way to describe this.

"When you're thirsty, when you feed – just give a general description on how you view blood as a vampire." Harry paused; there was no way to phrase this delicately.

"Blood is life. When I'm - I need it, it's not like being hungry as a human. I feel like I'll die if I don't have it. A part of me is willing to do anything to –"

"Even kill?" Ms. Thatcher asked. Harry hung his head.

"Yes, even kill." People immediately burst out talking. Ms. Thatcher had to wait a minute for them to calm down.

"Carry on, Mr. Potter."

"And when I drink it, I can taste the person behind it. It's humming with their energy."

"And how do you feel when you drink it?"

"I feel at peace. I feel powerful and horrible. I didn't ask to be this way! I don't want to have to feed off of others," Harry pleaded for them to understand. This was going the wrong way. He didn't want them to think that he was a monster, but the way the words were coming out of his mouth, it sounded as if he found pleasure in watching people drain away.

"And yet you do. How many times have you drunk it? Have you ever drunk directly from someone?" Harry winced.

"A handful. I thought you cleared this up with Ron and Hermione." They had both been separately asked whether Harry had taken blood directly from them. Harry desperately hoped they didn't ask whether he had drunk from anyone else because then he'd be forced to admit...

"Perhaps you want to add a few more details. How exactly did you stop once you started? I would imagine for a creature that lives off of blood that would be difficult." Her gaze challenged him to disagree.

"I managed to pull away, and I had Ron and Hermione as back-up. I told them if they even thought for a moment that I was going too far that they should stop me. It wasn't my idea. I didn't force myself onto them," Harry explained, watching as a few people in the audience nodded as if this somehow made sense to them.

"And yet you took advantage of them knowing that had you gone crazy, they probably would have been unable to stop you." Harry stuttered. He remembered making some similar argument at the time. But he had never meant for anyone to get hurt. And no one had. He was far from guilty!

"I never meant…" He shook his head.

"Any other differences you care to note before we get to Mr. Malfoy?" Harry went to shake his head, but stopped.

"Wait, actually yes. I just want to say that I understand that there is some kind of an animalistic instinct inside of me. I know you see the red eyes and you want to think I'm a horrible monster. I'm certainly not a person, but I'm not the thing you're trying to say I am. I'm not attacking anyone, and you see that I'm not chained up."

"You may not be a horrible monster, Mr. Potter, but you still do pose a threat to the society. Say Mr. Malfoy and yourself get in an argument. Say he leaves you, this time permanently. How would you react?" Shuddering at the thought, Harry had to bite his tongue to keep from keep from replying. "Or say someone tries touching him to guide him somewhere. Your automatic reactions say that you should attack. You may have been lucky enough to have prevented these things a few times around, but say someone isn't as quick that time around. You may only kill one person, but that's one person too many." Harry found himself agreeing with what Ms. Thatcher was saying. But what exactly did that mean for him? "You may be seated Mr. Potter."

"Thank you." He kept his eyes down as everyone followed him back to his seat. The moment he sat down, Draco grabbed his hand, and Harry noticed that both of theirs trembled.

"We now call Draco Malfoy to the stand."

"I love you," Harry whispered. Draco looked back, a small hint of a smile on his face.

"I know." Strolling over he reached his spot on the stool and paused. "I'd like to use a Pensive as my part in this." At these words there was an immediate uproar. The thought of Draco giving his testimonial through a series of memories – it was unheard of.

"I've –" Ms. Thatcher paused, clearly at a loss for words. "Why would this be a good method? How do we know it'll answer our questions?"

"By now you barely have anything else to ask about Harry. What you want to ask me has to do with what I know about vampires. But I can hardly put that into words. I can show you everything. I promise not to leave anything out. If you don't believe me, I'd recommend a truth spell. That's seemed to convince the others." He glanced back at Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"I see. And who exactly would see these memories? I don't think we can bring in the whole council."

"Clearly I'd want you to see it as well as the Minister. I only ask that you let Harry see this as well. He has every right to." Draco held himself proudly as Thatcher looked at him in bewilderment.

"You may have a ten minute break while the council decides." Draco strolled back over to his seat, and Harry gaped at him, unsure what to say. He hadn't been expecting this. What exactly was Draco going to show him? He knew the basic story, sure, and he thought what he'd hear today would only be a regurgitation from the earlier one.

"I hope you know what you're doing, Malfoy," Hermione muttered, looking concerned. "I don't think that this has ever happened before. I don't even know whether they'll approve it."

"Merlin, I think everyone's going to go crazy if they say yes," Ron added, glancing around at the people, who were now frantic, exchanging words with people beside them and looking over at the group ever few seconds. "This whole thing is giving me a headache. We barely avoided confrontation about the whole 'Malfoy's a vampire' issue."

"Shush," Draco said, giving Ron a firm stare. "I don't want anyone overhearing. But, yes, we were lucky. I plan to tell that about that, not show it."

"Gee, I wonder why," Ron said, snorting. It was Harry's turn to glare at his friend.

"You want me to see this?" Harry finally asked. He wasn't sure what to make of it.

"I promised you I'd explain why I was helping. I did give you the basic story. But I want you to understand. I didn't want to hurt you. And I know I was being unreasonable. What you said was true, the other night, about me replacing you with –" Before Draco could finish, Ms. Thatcher's voice boomed above the ruckus.

"Mr. Malfoy, your proposition has been accepted. You, Mr. Potter, the Minister, and I shall meet you outside of the courtroom to take you to another room where this will be arranged."

"This is it," Harry muttered. "If this doesn't work, I'm screwed."

"I believe you've already been screwed," Draco added, winking. The show was merely mock bravado, though, and Harry could tell.

The moment they stepped outside of the courtroom, it was immediately quiet. Kingsley looked at the two of them with gentle eyes. It was obvious he had judged Harry's innocence long ago. Ms. Thatcher, however, remained less convinced. In silence, they led them to another small room. It was bare except for a table holding a pensive. Draco paused.

"I don't have my wand. I'm not sure how else to pull out my memories..." Kingsley glanced over at Ms. Thatcher. She cautiously pulled out her own wand.

"If you try to do anything else, the Minister _will_ stop you, and you'll both immediately be arrested. Isn't that right Minister?" She looked over at Kingsley with a false sweetness that reminded Harry uncomfortably of Umbridge. Kingsley merely nodded, however.

Draco produced a silvery trail of memories, and placed them in the Pensive. They swum about, and Harry looked at them with a heavy heart. What was he going to see? Draco's story had been one of horror, and he could only imagine that seeing it would be awful. It had been horrible enough to hear about it... At least he'd get to see this infamous William.

"There are some – err – inappropriate scenes that I can take out, if you'd like. I just think they'll further your understanding," Draco said as they took a step forward.

"That's quite alright. As long as you're willing to share them..." Draco nodded, and the three of them dove down.

The first scene showed Draco younger than Harry had ever seen. He stood by his father's side, looking up at him with wide, admiring eyes. Lucius was clearly leading him somewhere, and Harry had a guess where that would be.

"I was six years old," Draco explained, looking over at his younger self. "It was the first time I found out about vampires."

"That young?" Thatcher asked. Before he could respond, Lucius Malfoy began to speak.

"_Now, Draco, what I'm showing you is a secret."_

"_You're trusting me with a secret?" Draco asked, beaming at his father._

"_This isn't any little task, Draco, but I think you're old enough to understand that our lives aren't as simple as you'd wish them to be." Draco tilted his head and smiled, ignorant of what awaited him. "If you tell anyone, even Mother –"_

"_But why mustn't Mother know?" Lucius suddenly glared at him, and Draco took a step back, biting his lips._

"_She simply cannot. And if you tell anyone, I'll know. If you tell anyone, horrible things will happen to you."_

"_How so?"_

"_I'll make sure of it." The look Draco gave his father was no longer one of respect, but of fear. This was clearly a side of his father he didn't see often_.

"Your father threatened you?" Draco nodded.

"He upheld that threat, too. I'm guessing he had something to do with Pansy, Blaise, and Theo, considering the message." Harry wrapped his arm around him, staring in horror as mini-Draco and Lucius approached the door to the basement.

_When he opened the door, a burst of groans and moans came from the inside. Draco shifted uncomfortably before following his father and shutting the door behind him. What met his eye clearly was not what he expected. Pressing up against the wall, Draco looked around at the sight with wide-eyes, shaking._

"_But they're –"_

"_Vampires, Draco, yes." Lucius addressed it as if it were completely normal for tends of vampires to be crowded around in their basement. Around them people lay fainted, blood smeared on their necks. A few of the vampires were asleep, and others were still drinking from other humans. The people still seemed to be alive, and they clearly were enjoying it. Some people had their hands down their pants, stroking themselves and moaning, their heads thrown back. No one paid much attention to the fact that Lucius and his six year-old son had entered the room._

_There was a sudden cry, and Draco's eyes moved over to see one girl throw her head back, biting her teeth and bucking her hips. The vampire above he continued thrusting into her, licking the streams of red that flowed down her shoulders._

Thatcher was the first to comment. "Dear, God, but these are people! Are they under the some sort of charm, or..." Shaking his head, Draco averted his eyes. Feeling him trembling, Harry placed a kiss on his lips, and felt the blond immediately relax. When he pulled away, he answered.

"They're willing victims. A vampire's venom is addictive. It's stimulates the body. Granger and Weasley could have told you that. Some people just can't resist the rush, and they like the danger. The bites are easy enough to hide, and they can always come for more. They paid my father. It's how he made a good deal of money."

_Draco suddenly collapsed to the floor, retching, and Lucius pulled him up. "Insolent boy!" Lucius' hand struck out, smacking Draco across the face hard enough that it drew blood. A few vampires looked up, suddenly interested._

_One of the vampires who had appeared to have been sleeping suddenly lifted his head and walked over, smiling. He wore a simple black cape, and his smile was predatory._

"_Ah, Lucius, you've decided to show your boy around, then – give him the grand tour?"_

"_I figured it was time he learned what being a Malfoy meant," Lucius replied. "Draco, this is Dorian. He's 384 years old. He's part of the vampire council."_

"_Vampire council?" Draco asked, stretching out a shaking hand._

"_He asks a lot of questions," Dorian said, arching an eyebrow._

"Vampire council?" Ms. Thatcher repeated.

"You'll see later on. It took me a while to realise that they were," Draco replied, shrugging.

"_Draco, you'd do well to shut your mouth at times." Nodding, Draco stepped back so that he was in Lucius' shadow, and looked down at the floor._

"_I'm sorry, Father."_

_The scenery changed, and Draco was now several years older. He was sitting in the kitchen reading a book, although he put it down when his father walked into the room._

"I'm – I was eleven years old. It was the break for the holidays."

"_How are you enjoying school, Draco?" Draco paused and the smile faded away._

"_It's going well, I guess."_

"_I've heard otherwise." His cane tapped against the floor impatiently, and Draco flinched. Whatever was going to happen, Draco was expecting it. Lucius seemed to puff up slightly, and he loomed over Draco. "I heard you attempted to become Harry Potter's friend."_

"_Attempted and failed." He slunk back into his chair, seemingly trying to blend in to the wall._

"_Even breaking my rules you fail. I told you that you were not to associate yourself with that boy. Not only did he refuse your friendship, but he beat you at Quidditch as well. He grew up with Muggles, never touching a single broom, and yet he still manages to beat you!"_

Harry felt suddenly sympathy for the boy he had hated all through school. As arrogant as he may be, with a father like that, who could blame him? And the friendship he had rejected wasn't one Draco had attempted to make as his father's puppet. In fact, he had been trying to reach out to him despite his father's warnings. "Draco, I'm so sorry."

"I was a prick," the blond said, sighing. "Just watch."

"_On top of that, you've been beaten by a Mudblood! It's fucking disgusting. You continually disappoint me." Draco was shuddered now, and he barely held back tears._

"_I'm sorry, Father. I'll do better, but she's the teacher's favourite. I don't know whether I can –" He let a tears slip, and Lucius was immediately on him. His hand lashed out, and he hit Draco hard enough that he flung out of his chair and hit the wall. His lip and cheek were stained with blood, but the moment he picked himself up, Lucius was at him again, smacking him down onto the floor. Pulling out his wand, he muttered a spell Harry had never heard before, and more cuts formed on Draco's face._

"_Malfoys do not cry nor do they get beaten – let alone by a Mudblood. Get up and go study."_

"Dear Lord," Kingsley said, glancing down at Draco. Harry was stroking Draco's hair, trying to calm him. The blond had flinched with each blow as if he could still feel the sting, and his entire body was shaking. It was hard to do anything to keep him from shaking, but Harry held him, wishing that there was more that he could do. He felt so helpless, lost among Draco's memories.

"Love, I'm right here," Harry muttered, massaging the back of his neck. "That stuff is over. Your father's been caught, remember?" Draco nodded, although he still shuddered.

"That was the last time he hit me," he finally said so that everyone could hear.

_The scene shifted again. He had grown since the past scene considerably. Again, he was reading, although this time he was curled up on his bed. His room was surprisingly simple. It held the basic materials and was decorated Slytherin green, but otherwise didn't stick out much. Even the bed, although big, wasn't adorned with any unnecessary frills. In his hands Draco held __War and Peace__. He seemed completely at ease until the door opened._

"Oh my..." So that was William. He was certainly a few years older. Harry would estimate about seventeen or eighteen. He couldn't help but notice that William certainly was handsome if you ignored the red eyes. His hair reached down to them, and it was spiked up and strewn as if messy. Harry could imagine it took a lot of effort to get it to look quite right. He leaned against the doorframe with a drunken smile. Merlin, Harry could understand why Draco had fallen for him. The boy was suave. But Draco, or, well, memory-Draco didn't seem to think so.

"I had just turned fifteen," Draco simply said.

_Picking up his wand, Draco pointed it at the other boy. "Get away from me." His hand shook, and he was clearly afraid. With a step backwards, he grabbed a cross, and William hissed._

"_I promise you I'm not going to hurt you."_

"_Right, like I'm going to believe a vampire who just comes prancing into my room." With a snort, Draco backed up into the corner of his room, clutching the cross to his chest._

"_I'll do anything to make you believe me. Please. Just let me come in. I don't want to get caught. I'm not sure what they'll do to me."_

"_Trying to get my pity, now? It's not going to work." But this time Draco's voice was slightly softer._

"_How about this – you use magic to tie me up, so you know I can't hurt you." Draco seemed to mull it over, then shrugged._

"_Fine." Before William could say anything else, he fell to the ground, arms and legs tied by invisible cords. "So, what could you possibly want with me?" Draco asked, moving over to the bed. The cross was still clutched in his hand, and his wand was carefully placed beside him on the bed._

"_You're my mate."_

"What!" Ms. Thatcher suddenly sprung backwards. "Is that even possible to have two people chase after you?"

"I suppose," Draco muttered, looking sadly over at William. He clearly couldn't feel the same way – Harry was now his mate – but it didn't mean he didn't still feel something towards the vampire from his memories.

_Again, everything became a swirl. They were sitting on the bed together talking. William slowly was edging his hand closer to Draco, but the blond didn't even notice. He was completely enraptured by what William was saying. The moment his fingers brushed against Draco even the slightest, he relaxed ever so slightly and grinned. Whatever he had been saying had just finished though because there was nothing but silence in the room. "So, what do you think?" William asked, bashfully looking away when Draco finally noticed his hand._

"_I think it's brilliant. You should be a writer. You definitely have talent." Draco smiled, blushing as William's face lit up._

"_You really think so? You're not just saying it to be nice?"_

"_I'd think you'd have known me long enough that I don't just say things to be nice. That sort of thing is idiotic." William looked absolutely satisfied with his mate's new approval, and settled down with a wide smile, lying back and looking up at the ceiling._

"_You're not one to bullshit." For a moment it was quiet, and then Draco grabbed William's hand. William gasped and his eyes shot over to Draco, looking confused._

"_I just wanted to thank you for not trying to push anything onto me. You've just talked to me these past two weeks."_

"_Two weeks and three days," William muttered automatically. Sighing he pulled himself up again. "I might need to stop coming, though. I've fed a few times –" Draco cringed at this "- but I don't know how long I'll be able to go without your blood. I don't want to hurt you. And as much as I'd hate to stop coming, I don't want to put you in any dangerous situations." He looked suddenly sad and weary, and as he placed his knees on the bed, propping his chin on them, he stared vacantly in front of him._

"You became quick friends with this vampire," Kingsley said. "Or perhaps it was more than a friendship that you two shared." Draco nodded. "What is his name? He looks familiar."

"William Press." Kingsley froze.

"Oh dear. His parents are quite influential. They sent a search party after their son, but they never found out what happened to him." Even Thatcher nodded her head gravely.

"_I want you to bite me," Draco said after a pause. "You can fed off of me."_

"_No! It's dangerous. If I can't stop, it'll kill you." William shuddered, backing off of the bed. He looked horrified even at the suggestion._

"_But you won't. I know you."_

"_I'm not the same person when I feed. Blood does something to me. I taste it and it's like nothing else matters." He shook his head. "No way." There seemed to be something else he wanted to add, but he let it drop._

"_So, I care about you, and you're the only person I can really talk to. Even Pansy, Blaise, and Theo don't know as much about me as you do. I trust you. I know you. Please..." William shook his head, and Draco's fingers curled around his wand._

"_No!" But before he could stop Draco, the blond had created a cut on his neck. Blood oozed out of it. William reached for his wand, but Draco held it firmly in his hands._

"_What are you going to do now?" It was easy to tell that restraining himself was getting harder by the second. William's muscles twitched, and he could stare at nothing but the blood dripping down Draco's neck. While he was frozen, Draco moved forward, pressing his cut against William's lips. A snarl broke free from the vampire's mouth, and he pushed Draco back on the bed, sinking his teeth into his neck._

"_You're mine, you hear. Mine!" At first Draco weakly cried out in pain. But the pain quickly changed to something else. His moans became obvious, and jerked his hips upward trying to find contact. The vampire took a few more sips and then pushed back, grabbing his wand and healing Draco's cut. Draco whimpered at the sudden loss of contact, and groggily looked up._

"_You didn't kill me," he slurred._

"_You idiot! I could have. How could you – I don't even know what I'd do if I hurt you, Draco! You can't do that to me. Oh, God, you need blood replenishing potion."_

"_Not to worry..." Draco reached over and pulled a vial out of the upper drawer._

"_Were you planning this?" William asked in disgust as Draco gulped it down._

"_I brewed it just in case. I have a few more in there. They're easy to make, and I wanted to make sure that in case you ever needed my blood I'd be able to offer you some." Snorting, William backed away, unsure what to say. But his pacing didn't last long. He pulled up to Draco, placing a hand on his knee._

"_But why did you do it?"_

"_Because I care about you."_

"I have to agree with William in that case. That was a rather risky move." Kingsley's brow crinkled, and he looked over at Harry and Draco. Harry felt nothing but jealousy. He knew that Draco now cared about him, but he had never had that kind of effect on the blond. They had talked, but he had never made Draco smile the same way William had. What they had now was pseudo-love, forced together only through the vampire bond. What Draco had with William was real.

"I'm sorry." Draco seemed to know what he was thinking. "I thought you had the right to see." Harry nodded.

_They were still in Draco's room, although it was clear from the movement of a few things that time had passed. William was stretched out on the bed, eyes closed. He didn't seem to be asleep as his head was tilting from side to side slightly to the rhythm of a melody inside of his head. Draco, however, was propped up, staring at him intently. From his expression, it was clear he was debating whether or not to do something._

"This was six weeks after we had first met," Draco announced.

_Swiftly he moved over so that he was straddling William. The vampire's eyes shot open and he gave Draco a curious look. "What are you –"_

_Before he could continue, Draco's lips were pressed against his. He moaned, flipping over so that he was on top. Roughly, he grabbed Draco's face and pressed his tongue through his lips. "Fuck..." He pulled back for a second before tasting Draco again, this time more carefully. His tongue traced the blond's lips and his hands moved through his hair. Draco thrust his hips up, grinding against him. If the burgeoning bulges in their pants were anything to go by, they were clearly enjoy it. William's hand reached down and he began to unbutton Draco's pants. With that movement, he pulled out of the kiss. Slowly he unbuttoned Draco's shirt as well, and placed a trail of kisses downward to –_

Harry growled, and Draco wrapped his arms around his waist, holding him back. Turning him around, he looked into Harry's eyes. "Bite me." Harry bit down, making a soft mewling sound as the blood rushed into his mouth. Draco was his. Seeing him with William was beyond unbearable. His hands tightly gripped Draco, and he slowed down, pulling away before he could drink a suspicious amount. Kingsley and Thatcher were looking at them with eyebrows raised. Thatcher was blushing.

"Sorry," Harry mumbled, wiping at his lips and glancing away. He hoped that wouldn't count against him.

"This next memory should be a few days later. It'll tell you more about the vampire council." Everything changed, but not before Harry could make out the blurred outline of William pulling down Draco's boxers.

"_So, what exactly is the vampire council?" Draco asked. His head was now in William's lap, and the vampire stroked his hair. The smile that had been on his face faded slightly. "I know you don't like talking about them, but I just want to understand."_

"_No, no, I know. They're the group that governs the vampires."_

"_Oh, really? Thanks, I'd gathered that much." He laughed, and William eased slightly, brushing a finger against Draco's lips._

"_Well, they're all extremely old, and they decide the fate of other vampires. If they deem a vampire to be strong enough, they'll let them live with them under the assumption that said vampire won't tell a soul about their existence. It's all a big secret, you know." It was Draco's turn for his expression to darken._

"_So I've heard."_

"_Well, if they think you're weak, they hold you back. Like they restrain you. You get no blood, and you can't find your mate. It's why vampires have such a bad name. Those are the ones the world usually sees."_

"_But if they're restrained... I don't understand."_

"_Here, flip over," William said, and Draco went on his back. William straddled him, and his hands reached out, slowly massaging his back. "Well, they let them go. They unleash them onto the world only after the properly insane." William's laugh was bitter. "It's why I'm so lucky I have you. I'm fairly sure they would've done the same with me."_

"_They just release them?" Draco sounded disgusted. "But why don't they want the world to like them? If people saw what vampires really are..."_

"_They don't want them to because if they did they'd bother the council, probably try to break it up, if not send them to Azkaban for what they've done. By having the world focus on the others, they get left alone." William sighed and placed a kiss on Draco's neck. "I love you, you know."_

_Draco flipped over so that he was facing him. "I do know. And you know I love you too."_

"_No, but I mean I really love you. I'd love you even if I wasn't a vampire. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, Draco. You're not only gorgeous, but you're clever and patient. You treat me like a human being." Draco smiled and leaned forward, kissing him in response._

"You two really were close, then?" Thatcher asked. Draco nodded. He was staring off somewhere else. Harry, on the other hand, was glaring angrily at the floor, his fists clenched. It had been real, all of that. Whether or not William had been a vampire – it didn't matter – because their love had been real. The way they spoke to each other was pure and sincere. Harry knew it because it was how he felt. It was remarkable how many similarities there were between the two of them. No wonder it had been so easy for Draco to simply switch them in his mind.

"This next one's going to be gruesome." He paused. "I don't know whether I can – Harry, hold me." He buried his head into Harry's chest. "Tell me when it's over. I've lived through it once like this and every night in my dreams. I don't need to relive it like this again." Harry wrapped his hand around Draco, cradling his head against his chest.

_There was a knock at Draco's door. Lucius Malfoy opened it. "I thought I'd show you something. Perhaps it will show you what I truly meant if you ever told. I just thought I hadn't emphasised that in a while." Draco looked confused. "You've been slacking off, Draco."_

"_I have?"_

"_You've been staying in your room all day moping about. I thought I should show you what happens to rejects like you." He moved out of the room, and Draco followed, looking slightly concerned. When they paused in front of the basement, he tensed._

"_I thought I'd show you how vampires deal with the weak." With that he opened the door to reveal William bent over, sobbing in pain. His hands and feet were tied together, and he limply lay against the floor, blood seeping from his wounds. "Draco, this is William." Shaking his head, he backed up against the door, which had closed in the meantime. He mouthed 'no' over and over again, and tears formed in his eyes._

_Dorian stood above William, twirling his wand. "We thought he'd be interesting for you to see because, you are, in fact his mate. You know what a mate is, don't you?"_

"_Of course he does! You think I taught him nothing?" Lucius said, sneering. Dorian bowed._

"_My apologies."_

"_Draco," William gurgled out, spitting some blood. He looked up at Draco with nothing but fear in his eyes. "Help me." Draco lunged forward, but Lucius grabbed him._

"_Let me go," he struggled – to no avail – against his father's grip and glared up at Dorian. "You monster. You're fucking low. You can't even fight like a decent human being. You have to tie him up before you can do anything." Dorian's eyes turned to slits._

"_He's feisty, Lucius, and I don't know if I like it." Lucius grunted, unable to say much with Draco fighting him. "Here's how we deal with our kind." With that he drew his wand against William's back, and a deep cut formed where it had been. William screamed out in pain._

"I think I'm going to be sick," Thatcher muttered, and she leaned sat down, clutching her stomach. Harry felt Draco quaking beneath him, whimpering with each sound that William released. Harry could barely stand what he was seeing. Their methods reminded him of Bellatrix Lestrange. He could see the way Dorian's face twisted in pleasure with each sound of pain coming from William. Harry shuddered.

_Dorian pulled William up, and pushed him backwards. There was the sound of breaking ribs, and William fell to the floor again, limp as a rag doll. He was barely conscious. "Did you bring the cross?" Dorian asked, stepping backwards. Lucius nodded. "Let me take that boy from you."_

"_William!" Draco screeched. But the moment he was in Dorian's grip, he knew that he had an even smaller chance of escaping. His grip was tight, and he almost looked bored holding him back._

"_How do you like that, William – another vampire is touching your mate." William growled, weakly trying to pull himself up, but only squealing in pain when the ribs crunched. He fell forward, and swallowed heavily. Draco was sobbing. Lucius leaned forward, a cross in his hand, and pressed it against William's back. There was the sound of sizzling flesh as William once again burst into life, writhing and screaming. Draco's screams served as echoes._

"_Please, Father. Stop. Please," Draco babbled, but Lucius was deaf. He continued to press it down, smirking as the skin bubbled around it. When he finally pulled it back, the shape of a bleeding cross took form. William was wheezing now, and he barely had the energy to lift his head. Lucius went back in his place, restraining Draco, and Dorian again loomed over William._

"_Draco, please." The wheezing sound escaped William's lips as a whisper. "I love you." Then Dorian's hands reached down, grabbing William's neck in one swift movement, and ripping it off. For a moment, it rolled on the floor, staring sightlessly at Draco, and then crumpled to dust._

"_No!" Draco finally broke free of his father, his voice breaking. When he hit the floor, he scratched at it as if William were going to be hidden underneath, ready to surprise him. His fingers suddenly became mauled open hitting the concrete, and he felt them snap. Despite the pain he kept going, ignoring Dorian's hiss of breath. "Oh, God." With that, Draco threw up._

Harry barely could stand upright. He felt sick. Thatcher had curled up, and still held her stomach, but the both of them were crying. Kingsley, whom Harry had never seen cry, clenched his fists and used his sleeve to wipe his red eyes.

"Draco, it's over," Harry said, his voice sounding detached. Draco turned around and crumpled onto the floor. Sitting there shaking, he stared blankly as they were pulled out of the Pensive, reaching out toward his fifteen year-old self and sobbing quietly.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N**: I'm sorry it took me so long! I know I promised to updated, but my computer crashed, and I was kinda bummed out. The hard drive had to get wiped, but I had most stuff saved on an external hard drive, I realized, so I found this finally.

Chapter 19

When they landed back in the room, Draco quickly pulled himself up, coughing and trying to steady his breath. "Oh, Draco," Harry muttered, pulling Draco close. Draco let Harry hold him for a moment before clearing his throat.

"So, there's that. Harry's not guilty for what's been done to him."

"I can see that," Thatcher said, her voice low. "But you are."

"What!" Both Draco and Harry immediately faced her, trying to sputter protests.

"You hid valuable information from the Ministry. We could have protected you, and you know that. Yet even after what happened with William, your supposed love, you kept it a secret." Draco sneered at her.

"My _supposed_ love? And let's see you deal with an abusive father. Let's see how fantastically you handle it. That scared the shite out of me. If nothing, I was more afraid what he would do to me." Draco growled and stepped toward her, but Harry grabbed his arm.

"It's not – But you can't possibly think this is his fault. He was afraid."

"And we could have protected him."

"Harry, this isn't your fight," Kingsley added, sighing. "She is right. Draco should have told us. It was his responsibility to do so. But it seems that you are off the hook."

"I don't care if I'm off the hook. He's my mate!" Harry looked back and forth between the two. "And this is my trial, not his."

"A fair point. Mr. Malfoy, we will hold your trial at a later point. But for now simply explain what this has to do with Mr. Potter. I believe I understand the connection, but it would be best if you enlighten us." Draco's nostrils flared, and he visibly had to restrain from moving.

"Because I wanted to reverse what happened with William. I wanted to help a vampire because then maybe I could convince myself that I hadn't let William die, and that I hadn't abandoned him when I needed him most. And Harry of all people – it was convenient." Each word hit Harry, and he backed away. He had known it before today, but hearing it like that from Draco, so direct... Harry pulled himself back, swallowing and sliding down against the wall.

"And every time I'd tell you I cared, you just saw William, Harry muttered, eyes clenched. He heard the swoosh as Draco ran toward him, but jerked back his hand before Draco could lay his on top. "Don't."

"Harry, I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Well, that's funny. I understand why you did what you did, but it's just hard for me to be happy when –" His voice cracked and he shook his head. "Draco, you're my mate. And beyond that, I – It doesn't matter." Harry cut off, looking away. He felt his stomach drop. "How long was this just about William?"

"Do I have to answer?"

Harry scoffed. "I know the other night was for him. Speaking of which, when are you going to tell them?"

"Tell us what?" Thatcher asked, looking slightly confused.

"I didn't quite tell you everything yet," Draco said, straightening up. His voice quivered, and Harry could practically smell the fear radiating off of him. He felt an urge to comfort him, but then he thought back to what Draco had just told him, and remained huddled against the wall.

"And what exactly did you leave out?" Draco turned around for a moment, and Harry looked up to see him removing his contacts. "What are you doing?" When he turned around, his fangs were visible and his eyes red.

"Harry bit me. But it wasn't his fault. I provoked him. When I found out that my friends were..." Draco struggled to find to words. "I didn't know how to cope. I turned to him as if he was William, and he told me he wouldn't be able to restrain, but I forced myself onto him. You have to believe me." Thatcher tilted her head and looked at Draco as if she pitied him.

"I do. You've managed to get yourself into quite a mess." Harry zoned out, instead focusing on his thoughts. He cared about Draco more than he could put into words. The last thing he wanted was for Draco to get in trouble. He wouldn't be able to bare it if anything happened to him.

But would Draco even believe him if he said if he was madly in love? Would he even care? Harry felt as if someone had reached inside of him and twisted his organs about. He could barely breathe and his hands shook.

What Draco had said had hurt beyond reason. Draco didn't give a fuck about him still. The one thing that made him kiss him, made him _fuck_ him was the fact that he had bitten him. Without it, Draco wouldn't need his touch. And without a debt to pay to William, all this would just be one big laugh to him.

Yet Draco was still the bravest person he knew. What he had seen happen to William had trumped anything he had seen during the war. To have lost someone you love like that would have been worse than any other death.

And knowing that, Harry was able to forgive him. A part of him gave up. He couldn't be angry. What he felt towards Draco was unlike anything else. It wasn't explainable and it certainly wasn't rational. But with all of his heart he loved him. He loved Draco from the way he made him feel – even the way he made him hurt.

Because Draco made him _feel_ like no one else could.

Just when he was with him, he was never just holding his hand or talking to him. It was more than that. Every moment meant something, and every moment could have stretched out forever without Harry ever caring. He could grow old and die with him and not regret a moment, not a single fight or time he had felt worthless. Everything would have been worth it just to have Draco by his side.

"No, you're not going to have this argument now. He did what he had to, and he only hid because he was afraid. Dumbledore offered him shelter once, but even then he was afraid to take it. I heard him say how he could never be safe."

"How did you...?" Draco looked at him with a confused expression.

"Please, can we just go back to the court and tell everyone that I'm not guilty. I'm too tired to argue right now, and this isn't even his trial."

"Again you make that point. Well, Mr. Potter, we will be back to this later on. Still, if you do have a point." She strolled out of the room. Kingsley paused and turned to the two of them after she was out of earshot. His expression was solemn, and he glanced back and forth between the two of them as if deciding what to say. In the end, he merely shook his head.

"I'm sorry." With that, he walked off. Harry took Draco's hand, and Draco looked at him uncertainly.

"I'm sorry too," Draco mumbled.

"I already forgave you."

HDHDHDHDHDHD

The verdict was quickly given and people reacted to it with either cheers or confusion. It seemed like most of the people were rooting for him, at least decided they were when he had won. The whole experience was merely exhausting, and he barely avoided Ron and Hermione's questioning afterwards. All he wanted to do was go back to his flat and sleep. He had no clue for how long he had been awake. All he knew was that it was night time yet again.

Before they had left, Ms. Thatcher had given them a warning. "I'm putting Mr. Malfoy under your care for now, Mr. Potter. If you leave the country, Mr. Malfoy, then both of you will be charged as criminals." They had both nodded, and left quickly.

There was a gentle breeze when they left. It was weird knowing that he was not being hunted again. Harry fell back down into a bench and stared out at the park in front of him. There were a few lamp posts lit up, and a couple underneath one of them was snogging.

They weren't wearing robes, and there wasn't a wand in sight. Harry had a sudden desire to be a Muggle, oblivious to everything going around. Magic was wonderful, but its burden was sometimes too much. Perhaps had his parents been Muggles everything would have been different. They might not have died, and he would have been part of a normal, quiet family.

Draco slid in next to him. "What are you thinking about?"

"Actually, I'm trying not to think about anything," Harry lied. If Draco noticed, he didn't say anything.

"I don't know what you want me to do. I wouldn't be angry if you wanted me to stay at my flat. Well, more than not being angry, I'd understand."

"I couldn't be angry with you even if I wanted to."

"What do you mean?" Harry's skin tingled when Draco took his hand.

"Look, I understand what you did with me. From what you showed me, I can see what you saw in William." Draco shifted slightly, his hand loosening. "But I can also see what William saw in you. The Draco you've shown me isn't like anyone I've ever known. You make me feel like no one else can. And when you shove me back, when you hurt me and break my heart, I –" Harry looked away feeling silly, and pulled his hand out of Draco's. "I don't know what I'm saying."

"Harry, I never meant for you to get hurt."

"A bit late for that, don't you think?" He felt like an idiot. He never should have brought this up.

"I'll be by your side as long as –" Draco cut off. This conversation was going swimmingly.

"As long as you're a vampire and we need each other? Really, let it drop. It's fine. I've dealt with the end of the world at the hands of a psychotic wizard. Love should be a walk in the park after that."

"No, I'm going to –"

"Let it go, please?" Placing his hand on top of Draco's, he stood up, pulling Draco with him. "Let's just go home, okay?" Draco nodded.

"But it hurt s when I know that I won't be able to make you happy if Granger ever reverses it."

"Don't worry. When Hermione finds the cure, it'll stop hurting. But no more talking about that. I'd be a fool not to take full advantage of hopelessly-attracted-to-me Draco. I mean, not that kind of 'taking advantage of.' Unless you wanted that, which you shouldn't feel obligated to say yes to." Harry awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. Grinning and wrapping his arms around Harry, Draco rested his head on Harry's shoulders.

"I'd be disappointed if you didn't, Potter," he teased. "I know you're used to getting what you want, Golden Boy, but you might need to pay for this body. Malfoys don't come cheap." He winked and ground against Harry.

"You tease!" Harry turned around, grinning. "Always a prick."

"I believe you meant to say, 'You have a nice prick.'"

"I don't know whether 'nice' is the right word."

"You're right. Impressive sounds better."

"Well..."

"Coming in your mouth."

"Now you're talking, Malfoy." Grabbing him by his jacket, Harry pulled him forward, pressing their lips together. Draco's hand slipped down, pressing against the fabric of Harry's trousers and cupping the still-forming erection. Harry moaned into the kiss and bit down on Draco's lip, drawing blood.

Their teeth clashed, and Draco's jaw loosened as Harry caressed his lips with his tongue. Before long, Harry's tongue moved on and began wrestling with Draco's as they battled for domination. Their tastes blended together, and both of them groaned, desperate for more contact.

"Never thought you felt that way, Draco," came a third, eerily familiar voice. Harry broke away only to see Dorian standing a few metres away, smirking. "I saw that trial. I didn't really see what you had to show, but there was a brief summary at the end. I believe it was: 'Helped Mr. Potter in hope of repaying a debt to a long-lost love.' Now correct me if I'm wrong, but that wouldn't happen to be William, would it?" Draco snarled.

"Get away from him."

"And all the guys you could fall for, this one really isn't that great. You're losing your touch," Dorian mused. Harry lunged forward at Dorian, but the older vampire caught his arm, twisting it the wrong way. There was a snap, and Harry felt the bones break.

He screamed out, and suddenly found himself in Dorian's grip. The elder vampires grabbed Harry's wand, pointing it at Draco and disarming him. Try as Harry might, he couldn't get out of Dorian's grip. Fear gripped him, and he looked up to see Draco panicked as well.

"I wouldn't try anything," Dorian warned Draco. "I should have guessed it back then. You were far too emotional about a stranger. But I just assumed you were weak. At least I got that part right." He paused as if searching for wards. "Funny thing is, I could do the same thing to Mr. Potter here, and you wouldn't be able to stop me. Again." Harry felt the grip around his neck tighten, and he whimpered. He didn't want to die – at least, not anymore. He wanted to be with Draco, by his side.

Dorian leaned forward, his grip loosening again. "What would you do if you had to watch another person suffer and die, unable to protect him? What if he cried out just like William, begging for help, and you couldn't even do that?" Draco lunged forward, and Dorian's grip further loosened.

Ignoring the pain as much as he could, Harry managed to break free, grabbing his wand. Draco tackled Dorian to the ground, and the two of them moved like lightning, pummelling each other, aiming to kill, but missing. Harry could barely focus on the blurs, and the snarls seemed to press into his head.

Lunging forward when they paused, he ripped Dorian off of Draco, throwing him back against a wall and aiming his wand at him. Harry shook; he had never been this angry before. Every part of him screamed murder. He wanted Dorian dead or suffering eternally, shredded and screaming. The sound that tore from his throat was animalistic, and even the way his gums pulled back, revealing his teeth was far from human.

"My, my, someone's protective of his mate. And you're strong, too... I seem to have underestimated you." Dorian chuckled to himself as if this were a joke.

"Don't you dare lay a finger on Draco." Harry's wand twitched. "Incendio!" Dorian was quick, though, and his wand was out in time, deflecting the spell.

"I'll be prepared for you next time, Potter." With that, he Apparated.

"Fuck. I should've killed him." Harry collapsed, cradling his broken bone. There was a bit of it poking through the flesh, and Draco hissed.

"What did he do to you?"

"Nothing deadly, thankfully." But Harry's eyes still screwed shut, and it was clear it was all bravado; it hurt like hell.

"Vampires have this sort of... I'm not sure whether it works though." Draco tentatively reached out, grasping his arm. Harry screamed in pain, but then there was a flash of blue. When Draco removed his hand, there wasn't a mark on Harry's arm. "I guess it's not a myth."

"Blimey. Does it only work when the two of them are vampires?" Draco nodded, and Harry suddenly jumped. "We have to tell Ron and Hermione. Dorian might try to attack them!"

"Shite, you're right! Are you okay to Apparate."

"Yeah, I should be fine now, thanks to you." A small smile curled on Harry's lips, and Draco's eyes crinkled.

"You little sap." He shoved Draco over, flexing his newly healed arm.

"Bugger off. Hey, just a question, Draco."

"Yeah?"

"Does Dorian have a mate?"

"Yeah. Her name's Sybil. From what I remember of her, she wasn't that bad."

"Wasn't that bad?"

"I mean, she just seemed devoted to Dorian...didn't even seem to notice he was off his rocker..."

"Oh."

"Yeah..."

HDHDHDHDHDHD

"I know a ward. It should block him out. We'll have to fix your Floo, of course, so that no one can come in and out." Hermione paced back and forth, flipping through books. When Ron tried to place an arm on her shoulder to steady her, she simply pushed him off. "Here we go." She slammed the dusty book on the table. "_Construere Murum_."

"Merlin, Hermione," Ron mumbled, coughing. She ignored him, pulling out her wand. "Let's do it on apartment first."

HDHDHDHDHDHD

"I'm exhausted. I think I could sleep for ninety-eight hours straight," Harry moaned, nuzzling against Draco. They had spent the rest of the night putting up the spell around their houses. Harry at least felt certain that he wasn't going to have any sort of unexpected visitor, and neither would his friends.

"I'm sure I can change your mind."

"About what?"

"The bit about being tired..." Rolling on top of him, Draco's hand slipped down underneath Harry's boxers. "When I told you I'd be disappointed if you didn't take advantage of this, I meant it." Harry nodded, throwing back his head as Draco tugged at the head of his cock. Pulling Harry's boxers down, he got a better grip, and his fingers wrapped around the base of the cock.

"Fuck, Draco..." Harry moaned as Draco's leaned over, biting into his neck. "Don't stop."

"Wasn't planning on it." As he began drinking blood, Harry felt the euphoric rush it him. Everything suddenly seemed to dull down except for the colours. When Draco moved, even, it was as he left a trail; it was hard to focus. But the colours – the red of his eyes and the white-blond of his hair seemed to pop out.

The softened beat of a nonexistent heart seemed to hit his ears, and his head spun as venom crowded his mouth. Lunging upward, he grabbed Draco, biting down into his shoulder. It tasted sweet, tickling his taste buds. Something about it made his skin prickle, and he sucked desperately, trying to get as much of it as possible.

Draco pulled him back. "Fuck me."

"No."

"No!" Draco recoiled, looking affronted.

"No, I'm going to draw it out. I'm going to make you beg for it." Draco's eyes darkened considerably.

"You really should have been in Slytherin, Harry." A coy grin spread across Harry's face and he moved downward. His breath ghosted over Draco's fully ready cock, and he smirked.

"Flip over." With a groan of disappointment, Draco obliged. When he was fully faced down on the mattress, Harry carefully spread his legs and licked tenderly. Draco shivered underneath him. Carefully spreading it apart, his tongue probed at the tight ring of muscles.

"Rimming again? Never took it to be your style." Draco's fingers curled around the pillow and he panted a little, though he still sounded disgusted. A mumble was Harry's only response. As he licked around the puckered skin, Draco was already beginning to tense up, lifting up slightly from the bed, trying to get more contact. When Draco just seemed about ready to beg, Harry's tongue dived in, and Draco cried out. "Don't stop. Oh, God..." Wanton mewls escaped from his mouth, and Harry's hand crawled underneath Draco, and he grabbed his cock.

Propping himself up on his elbows, Draco allowed Harry better contact, and Harry quickly took advantage. His tongue fucked Draco mercilessly, and his hand kept steady rhythm. He could smell it when Draco's lip began bleeding after he bit it too hard. "So close..." Harry couldn't reply, but merely pulled away, and Draco cried out. "Tease!" Flipping over, he ground against Harry, finally pulling a noise from him.

Harry moaned Draco's name and reached over on the bedside dresser, picking up his wand and conjuring a tube of lube. Carefully, he slicked his cock and his fingers, reaching forward with two and gently pushing in. Draco winced, and Harry eased the knuckle in. Despite his quick attempt to conceal it, Harry could the pain. "Been a while, huh?" Harry asked quietly.

"No, I've been fucked by several guys after William. Just none have –" He cut off, looking unsure.

"None of them have been the same?" Draco nodded and Harry carefully nudged his fingers experimentally, aiming for Draco's prostate. Judging by the way Draco immediately gasped and thrust his hips forward, he would guess he was successful. Adding a third finger, he made sure to stroke the same spot repeatedly, drawing more moans from the other vampire. When Draco seemed to be prepared enough – he seemed to be trying to impale himself on his fingers – Harry pulled out and instead aligned himself with Draco. Slowly he pressed forward, pausing when Draco groaned.

"Just tell me if I'm hurting you." Draco nodded his head, and Harry could see he was still too proud to say anything. Sighing slightly at his stubbornness, Harry pushed in slightly more and paused, waiting for Draco to adjust.

He could barely breathe. Every inch of him screamed to move or at least bite down, but he resisted, though he felt faint. When Draco relaxed slightly, Harry angled himself so that he'd hit Draco's prostrate and thrust in the rest of the way. Draco cried out from under him, and Draco's fingers curled around Harry's shoulder, digging in little half-moon crescents.

"Fuck." Harry shook his head, setting a slow pace, memorizing the way Draco's face look. Draco's lips were parted and desperate, wanton sounds swelled with every thrust. His eyes fluttered every time Harry fully sheathed himself, and his head dropped backwards. Small beads of sweat began to form on his skin, and the little droplets glistened.

Harry could smell him; he smelled like come and blood, and he wasn't sure there was anything in the world that smelled better. Suddenly Draco's fingers curled around him, his eyes, and he tightened as he came with a shout, coating Harry's chest and relaxing. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he panted. It took several more thrusts, but with Draco reaching up, fingers trailing down his chest, squeezing the sensitive nubs, it didn't take long.

Sparks flew before Harry's eyes, and the world flashed with colour. Everything exploded in a crescendo, and then faded away. He felt complete, and he lay on top of Draco for a moment, trying to regain his composure. When he finally pulled out, wrapping his arms around Draco as he leaned in next to him, a brilliant smile overtook his face. Draco turned around, his face crafted the same exact way.

"Thank you. That was... It was amazing. I don't think anyone – Since William, you know? I mean..." He stuttered. But the meaning was clear. Harry's finger lay over Draco's lips for a moment, and he quieted Draco. Before Draco could start speaking again, he kissed him. They fell asleep, hand-in-hand.


	20. Chapter 20

**Author's Note**: Hey, guys. Here's chapter twenty. There are twenty-five chapters total, but I'm going on a trip to Europe for the next while (slightly over a month). So, I'm sorry to say that there's going to be another mini-hiatus for this fic. It should get back to its regular programming after that if I don't get distracted by college. Heh.

P.S. Please don't kill me for this chapter.

Chapter 20

It only took two weeks until they called Draco back for a trial. Harry felt nervous as hell. Thankfully, they had managed to keep the news private; although, it wasn't likely that many people would've come. While it did involve Harry Potter, it wasn't as important as his trial.

However, that news had been all over the wizarding world. Every time Draco and Harry had gone out walking around London late at night, some wizard or witch would come out of nowhere, giving them odd looks. Of course, there were those that cursed them out as well, but most of them were just curious. Not that Harry could really blame them. Still, it was his business.

He had been called a poof a good number of times by now, and each time he had to hold Draco back. He thought that people would have been smart enough to realise that insulting a vampire in the presence of another vampire mate would be dangerous.

But then again, most of the people who actually called him that probably didn't know much other than a life of chauvinism.

It didn't mean that there weren't times that it hurt, though. Draco seemed to realise this, and there were times where he would lean over, squeezing his hand comfortingly or nuzzling against him. Just feeling Draco's touch immediately would calm Harry down.

But then came news of the trial. Harry had barely been able to sleep for the past two days. Draco had tried everything, but every time he closed his eyes, all he could picture was them ripping Draco away from him. The thought alone knocked the breath out of him and made him cramp up.

They had been unusually serious about what Draco had done, and it frightened him. He couldn't comprehend why they couldn't see that Draco had merely been a kid and frightened of his father. But the secrets had continued after he had turned seventeen as well, and that was what scared Harry the most. Legally, he was an adult.

"C'mon, it'll be fine. What's the worst they can do? I don't have a soul for the Dementors to take," Draco joked.

But Harry couldn't be pacified.

When he wasn't restlessly lying about, he would pace back and forth across the room. It was only when Draco would wrap his arms around Harry's waist that he would take a deep breath and pause. It wasn't easy.

At least there wouldn't be spectators at the trial. It wasn't like news wouldn't leek out anyways, but as Harry approached the wooden doors, he couldn't help but feel relieved about that. Of course, everything else cancelled out the relief. His hand slipped down into Draco's as they walked into the room.

It seemed bigger than Harry remembered, and the hundreds of empty seats only gave it an eerie quality. In a sense it reminded him of the Department of Mysteries; that place had been so vast, and the lack of people had been, if nothing else, unusual.

As if sensing Harry's queasiness, Draco leaned over, placing a kiss on his cheek. "Don't worry. I've already told you; it'll be fine." But when Harry glanced over, he noticed that Draco's face was drained and he looked as if he was going to throw up. Fear poured out of his eyes, and he trembled slightly.

"But I don't even know what they have in mind. What if they –" Harry broke off as Thatcher cleared her throat.

"We've already agreed on the decision. I'm just here to let you know. I hope you don't mind if I get down from here. I was thinking I could make this a little more informal. Kingsley's suggestion..." Harry gave a nervous smile. If Kingsley had told her that, the verdict couldn't be that terrible, could it?

"I guess that's fine," Draco responded. Harry felt how his trembling decreased slightly. Here he was with Draco comforting him when, in reality, Draco was the one who needed comforting.

"He's been fine. He was just scared," Harry muttered, sighing. "He doesn't deserve – What exactly is his punishment?" Beside him Draco stood column-like and mute.

"See, Mr. Potter, while I do understand why he chose to hide this for fourteen years, we don't have much of a choice."

"Much of a choice?" Draco shuddered, looking between them, wide-eyed. "But, what are you going to do? I mean, what did you decide on?" He looked as if he was on the verge of tears, and Harry frantically scrambled for a way to make this better.

Maybe he could ask for help. He had done so much for the wizarding community, or so everyone insisted. If he just asked them for this one favour... As if reading his mind, Thatcher smiled sadly and turned toward him.

"I'm afraid there's nothing you really can do."

"I wasn't thinking of doing anything," Harry lied, gritting his teeth.

"But why exactly?" Draco asked, now visibly trembling.

"Why? Well, you had three years to tell us. You waited, and in this time over two-hundred and twenty people have been killed. That's a good deal more than died even at the Battle of Hogwarts. I don't think you understand the graveness of this situation."

"But my father –"

"He was no longer a threat. He was locked up in Azkaban, safe and away where no one could get him, and he couldn't get anyone. You chose not to tell us because of William."

"I don't understand what you're saying," Draco said, shaking his head as if he could erase this from having happened.

"You wanted to do something to help – I don't know how to say this... You wanted to find your own way to save William or to fix things enough that you could feel as if he'd forgive you. It's understandable."

"Please..." Draco's voice broke, and he continued wildly shaking his head back and forth.

"It wasn't fair what happened to you. But you're a legal adult, and you have been for three years. You have to be tried like one. I'm sorry. I really am." Even Harry could see the way she ground her teeth and her eyes crinkled slightly as if she was holding back tears. He felt like he was going to be sick.

"What's the... What's going to happen to me?" Draco's voice was small, and he sounded like a child frightened during a thunderstorm.

"Six months of Azkaban."

"Azkaban?" He deflated, and his eyes screwed shut. Harry could hear his breaths become uneven, almost stressed.

"No!" Harry shouted, suddenly, letting go of Draco's hand and falling to his knees. "Please, not Azkaban. He doesn't deserve that. He did something wrong, but he also helped so many people. We'd still be staking vampires. I'd be dead. Please..."

They were going to drag Draco away from him and lock him up. The thought made Harry quiver and his chest constrict. "No, oh God, no..." He pushed himself up so that he was standing again and looked at Thatcher with pleading eyes. "Anything. I'll do anything. Just don't hurt him."

"It's the minimum sentence. He's an adult. He has to be tried like one. I'm so sorry. It's not my choice. It's law."

"I..." Draco's face was vacant of expression and his voice was monotonic. He faltered, and then closed his mouth again. Harry's mouth felt dry. Draco was going to be sent to jail and there was nothing he could do. How was he going to live for six months without him?

"But blood! Even I'll start killing if I can't get it." Thatcher seemed to pause at this.

"You'll send it. We'll give it to him, and we'll let him send some to you as well." She seemed to work it out as she went along. Harry shook his head.

"I'll go with him to Azkaban."

"That won't work, I'm afraid, Mr. Potter. It's meant to be punishment for him. Rooming with a mate, no matter what the circumstances, is not going to –" Her voice wavered, and she cut off suddenly, and looked up at them, eyes brimming with tears. "If I could've changed it, I would have. It's just not possible. Please, we'll do everything we can to try to make it comfortable as far as the vampire thing goes..."

Harry nodded, feeling like a wrung out rag. Everything hurt from feeling. Draco suddenly collapsed beside him, his breaths ragged.

"Oh, God!" Harry kneeled down, grabbing his hand, but Draco stared off blankly at nothing.

"No, no, Draco, please, look at me." Draco didn't even respond. "Draco!" Draco finally glanced at him, although it was as if he was seeing right through him.

"Azkaban..." His voice was wheezy. Tenderly, Harry placed a kiss on his forehead, cradling Draco's head against his chest. His fingers ran through Draco's blond hair, and he rocked back and forth.

"I love you. You know that, right?" Draco barely nodded.

"Mr. Malfoy, I guess we can let you two say goodbye, but he –" She cut off again, looking down, horrified at the mess that was Draco. Tears continued to stream down her face.

But Harry ignored her, still soothingly petting Draco's hair. "I'll be here when they let you out," he muttered, trying to seek for any signs of emotion coming from Draco. But the blond seemed to be emotionally numb. "I'll find Dorian, and I'll kill that son of a bitch for you, Draco." Draco looked up for a fraction of a second, slowly showing more and more fear.

"Don't leave me. Please." Harry's throat closed up. _But I have to_. "I saved you. Why can't you save me?"

That thought pierced him, and Harry kissed Draco, trying to show him he wasn't abandoning him and that if he could do something more... Their lips scraped together, and Harry quickly darted out his tongue, purposefully cutting it on his own tooth.

Blood rushed into the kiss, and Draco's instincts kicked in. He shuddered, finally love. Grabbing onto Harry's shirt, he pull him closer and crashed into him. Draco's fingers slid to Harry's face, and he cupped his cheek as if he was afraid to let go. When he finally pulled back, he stood up and walked toward Thatcher; he was barely able to walk.

"You ready?" Thatcher asked. At some point during the kiss she had stopped crying, although her eyes were still red and puffy.

"No, but I'll never be," Draco responded in a raspy whisper. They walked out of the courtroom, and the door shut behind them. Harry crouched down again, feeling all bravery and hope drain from him without Draco by his side. As he curled up into a ball on the ground, he sobbed.

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Harry's eyes shot open. "I had the worst nightmare. I dreamt that they took you away, Draco. I don't know what I'd do if they took you away..." No one responded. "Draco?" Harry rolled over to find his bed empty. "Draco?"

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He clutched the toilet seat and vomited. His entire body convulsed as the last bit slowly dribbled down his chin. When he had finished, he slide to the floor, pressing his face against the tiles. The cold felt nice against him, and when he opened his eyes, droplets of sweat that had collected on his eyelashes fell like tears down his face.

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"I'd like my job back."

It was only four days after the trial, but Harry hadn't slept at all. All days he had sent his blood in a vial and received Draco's, and all times he had treasured it until the end of the day. The taste seemed dusty in comparison to how Draco usually was. It wasn't the same.

He wasn't there to hold Draco, and even his imagination couldn't compensate for that. It was enough to keep him from feeling murderous, but the ache in his heart grew more and more. Yet he was sitting in the comfort of his own apartment, curled up on the bed or the couch. He couldn't even pretend he knew what it was like for Draco in Azkaban. He had decided to try to pick up his old job; what better distraction was there?

"I was wondering when you'd ask," Kingsley replied, smiling slightly. He looked exhausted. "But I'd just like to ask why."

"Why?" Harry was confused. Wasn't this what he was supposed to do?

"Why do you want your job back? I mean, you clearly have..." Kingsley paused, trying to think of the right words. "You have other things on your mind, I'm sure."

"I do, but that's part of the reason why I want this."

"Here, sit down," Kingsley motioned to a chair, and Harry sat down. "Just explain to me why you want this job again."

"Well, I want to help Draco and get my mind off of him." Harry paused, unsure what exactly Kingsley was looking for.

"Well, I'm disappointed. That's the only reason you want to come back here?" As got up, he added, "I have work to do, so if –"

"No! I want to help, and I need something to keep me going. I like knowing I'm helping. I just feel so damn useless right now sitting at home. Please, I need to get back to this. I know I'm not human, but I still care," Harry babbled, feeling as if he was going to cry. If he couldn't get back his job, he would really go insane. But Kingsley sat back down, looking pleased.

"Good."

"Good?"

"I was planning on re-hiring you. Besides, I don't think I ever officially fired you. You may be a vampire, but you're still Harry. I was thinking of placing you on this new case we have. These two Muggles were attacked by –"

"No." Harry wasn't sure whether he could be so open about how he felt. After all, despite Kingsley being his friend, he was also his boss. "I want to be put on Dorian's case."

Kingsley's face darkened.

"Harry, you have a strong emotional connection to this one. I'm not sure whether you'd be able to –"

"Look, I'm not going to lie; I want to get back at him for Draco. But he's strong. As a vampire I'm less vulnerable to his attacks. And as for emotional connections – I dealt with those for the first seventeen years of my life. I know I can do this. Please..." For a moment Kingsley seemed to mull this over, and then he reluctantly nodded.

"If you do anything stupid, though, I'm kicking you off the case. And you're coming in at the right time. We got a lead on the case recently. I think they were planning to check it out tomorrow. I'll inform everyone else that we're changing the attack from afternoon to evening. Just make sure you're here the moment the sun sets."

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It turned out the team consisted of Roberts, Thomas, and four other men Harry had either known vaguely or not at all – Durham, Jones, Edwards, and Smith. _They don't look too welcoming_, Harry couldn't help but notice as he walked into the room, Kingsley at his side.

Kingsley reintroduced him to all of them, and each of them curtly nodded their heads. Despite their serious expressions, Harry could smell their fear. It wasn't as if he could blame them. This was a vampire that had survived for centuries, and they were expected to kill him. Even he was scared, although the thought of Draco kept him going. He had to do it for Draco.

"You're still going to be an Auror?" Roberts asked, twitching slightly. Kingsley had left with the instructions that Harry was supposed to let them know anything 'Mr. Malfoy' might have left out.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I?" Roberts shrugged. "Okay, so Dorian has attacked me."

"He attacked you?" Durham spoke now, looking shocked. "When was this?"

"It was right after the first trial. Draco and I were outside, and he came out of nowhere. Apparently he had got into the courtroom and had watched the whole trial."

"Oh, God," Edwards muttered. "So, he knows to expect us, probably."

"Probably," Harry admitted. "But he's strong. He almost killed both of us. But Draco managed to distract him. We might've been able to take him on if he hadn't Apparated." Harry scowled. But there was no use looking to the past. "And while there are other vampires that have slipped under the radar, I think Dorian is the one we need to worry about most." Of course, Lucius Malfoy was probably equally as dangerous... "Wait, whatever happened to Lucius Malfoy?" He had been so caught up that he had forgotten to find out. In a way, he felt guilty.

"They gave him a life sentence," Smith said.

"Good." Harry made a mental note to tell Draco when he got out. When he got out... Feeling his throat start to close, he cleared it and moved on. "Alright, there's also Sybil."

"Sybil?" Everyone looked confused.

"She's his mate," Harry explained. "I'm just guessing that she isn't going to be too happy if we manage to kill Dorian."

"When we manage to kill Dorian, you mean," Roberts replied, a cocky, condescending smile on his face.

"Don't underestimate him," Harry warned.

"Just because you and Malfoy weren't able to deal with him effectively doesn't mean that I'm going to fail."

Harry growled. Roberts was testing his luck. It was almost ridiculous how careless he was being. Just because he hadn't told Kingsley before about the horrible way Roberts had treated him, it didn't mean that Harry still couldn't.

"We'll see if you're still as sure when you have an angry vampire on your trail."

"Is that a threat?" Roberts stepped forward, raising an eyebrow. "I don't think Shacklebolt would like it if he found out that you were threatening me, Potter." Before he could get anything else out, though, Jones stepped forward, pulling him back.

"We're supposed to work on this together. And Potter's right. He's dealt with him with super-strength and he still almost lost," Jones said, looking angrily at Roberts.

"I agree," Thomas added. "I don't think Kingsley would like it if he found out that you were harassing him the moment he got here either. Didn't you say that he's still angry at you for treating him so horridly when you first found –"

"Shut up," Roberts snapped. Harry felt a warm glow hit him. Others were actually standing up for him despite the fact that he was a vampire. They actually seemed to care...

"Let's just go," Harry muttered. "I don't think there's much else I can really tell you." A few of them made non-committal head movements and began walking toward the doors.

"We're going to get out and then Apparate a few blocks away from where we heard they are," Durham explained as they walked. "But before we go into the building we're going to cast anti-_Apparition_ spells around the place."

"I wish we could've done the same," Harry muttered. "He just came out of nowhere." He avoided adding the part about how they were slightly distracted with each other. That detail wasn't exactly necessary to the story.

"I'm really sorry," Durham said, sighing. "This must be hard on you. And I'm sure it doesn't help that Roberts is being a right prick."

"No, not really."

"He can be a real pain in the arse sometimes. I'm not particularly fond of working with him, Har – err – Potter."

"No, I'd rather you call me Harry." A feeling of shame washed over him. "What's your first name? I don't think Kingsley mentioned it. I'm sorry, I should know it."

"I'm new. I came in while you were trying to cope with all that. I'm Nathanial."

"Well, nice to meet you, Nathanial." Harry smiled. At least some people weren't complete idiots when it came to social niceties.

"What's the phrase – pleasure's all mine or something?" He grinned, but before he could add more, they had managed to find themselves outside.

"Enough chitter-chatter," Roberts said. "Time to be serious. After all, we don't want to underestimate Dorian." He sneered at Harry and pulled out his wand. Everyone else followed suit.

With a crack and an uncomfortable few seconds of feeling as if he was being squeezed through a pinhole, Harry found himself standing outside of a place he didn't know too well. Of course, Kingsley had explained the basics to him. Harry had never heard of the place before, although now that he saw it, it looked like their scene. The houses were nice enough that they could live there. From what he had seen, these vampires weren't the stereotypical 'living in the gutter' type.

Wordlessly Harry followed them down the streets. They weren't crowded, but a handful of people appeared every once in a while, talking amongst each other. Harry felt slightly afraid. What if this lead was a false trail? What if they failed? Swallowing that, he thought of how Draco. Draco needed him to do this.

"This one," Roberts muttered, pausing in front of a building that led downward. At the bottom of the staircase there was a door, but the brick wall seemed to have no windows. This looked awfully convenient. After all, vampires avoided the sun at all costs.

Harry raised his wand with the other, carefully crafting his anti-Apparition spell. "C'mon..." Roberts crept down the stairs, and faced the door looking worried. "Bombardo!" So much for a sneaky entrance...

The rest of them ran down, Harry throwing himself at the front. And sure enough, a pair of red eyes met him. "I was expecting you, Potter," he muttered, throwing himself at Harry.

There wasn't enough time to dodge, and Harry and Dorian went flying toward a wall, crashing into it. Harry's head hit the bricks, and he went limp slightly, stars flying before him. He could feel weight lifted off of him as a jet of light flashed before his eyes. Dorian was immediately back up on his feet, and Harry pushed himself up, feeling slightly woozy. He could smell blood oozing out of his own head, but shoved that thought away. He had to keep on fighting.

Sybil appeared as well. She had soft blond hair, and she almost seemed fragile. Harry couldn't help but feel sorry for her. She didn't seem like the same type of person as Dorian. And yet she was going to lose a mate. Her teeth were bared and she frantically stared around the room. Slowly more and more appeared. It was nothing like the swarm from Draco's memories, but there was a good fifteen or sixteen of them.

"Shit." Lunging at one of the angrier-looking ones, Harry pulled a stake out of his pocket, pushing it through the vampire's chest. He gaped at Harry in surprise before falling backwards and dusting. A few of the other faced him, and a good deal of them seemed to focus in on him.

With the darkness and the jets flying, it was hard to focus in on them, and Harry barely had time to dodge several of their grasps. One of them grabbed him from behind, pinning his arms behind him, and Harry kicked forward, knocking another one backwards and into the wall. That one hit it with a horrifying crack and slumped downwards, passed out.

The vampire holding him loosened his grip in a moment of shock, and Harry managed to break free. "You're Harry Potter," the vampire muttered. She backed away from Harry seeming scared by this fact. "Dorian said you were strong..."

The words somehow gave him power. So he wasn't only afraid of Dorian. Dorian was actually afraid of him too.

Using his stake again, he lunged at her, pushing it through her heart. A part of him felt bad. What if some of these were innocents, and he was slaughtering them? There wasn't much time to think, however, as a guy crashed into him.

"You fucking killed her!" He shuddered and stared down at the dusty ground with wide eyes. It didn't take much for Harry to realise that this was her mate. "Rachael..." The guy swung out, smashing Harry's nose. Harry screamed out, feeling blood drip down his face.

Dashing out his tongue, he tasted it on his lips and pushed upwards, managing to get the guy off of him. Still, the vampire had a wand to Harry's chest. "You bastard..." He had managed to grab the stake from Harry's hand and his hand moved backwards. Harry was immobile. Oh, God...

With a giant swoosh the vampire flew off of him. Harry looked over to see Jones' wand pointed in the direction. He only had time to share a small, scared glance with Harry before he moved onto another vampire. Harry leaned down, grabbing his stake and stabbing that vampire with it. "I'm sorry..." He muttered as the vampire stared at him with a frozen expression. Looking around he saw that there was only two other ones if Dorian and Sybil were excluded.

Those two moved with grace when dodging attacks. They weren't attacking anyone yet, but Harry didn't doubt that soon they would. He had to get through the other two quickly so he could help them.

Jones, Durham, Smith, and Roberts were fighting off Sybil while Thomas and Edwards focused on the other two. Pulling out his wand, he sent one of those two vampires off of their feet. They landed gracefully, but in that time Thomas had managed to run up to him. But the vampire expected him. He knocked the stake out of Thomas' hand, breaking it in the process. Thomas shrieked out as the vampire moved forward, ready to bite him.

Running forward, Harry threw himself at the vampire, knocking him back to the ground. The vampire seemed to equal his strength and shoved Harry over on his back. No matter how he tried to hit him, though, Harry was ready, blocking almost all of the attacks. Only one caught him by surprise, and as the vampire's nails clawed into his face, Harry shouted out, pushing the vampire off of him.

He threw another quick blow and grabbed the vampire's neck, but the vampire was expecting that. He managed to rip them off before Harry could do anything. Snarling in frustration, Harry bit down on the other vampire. His blood tasted sour in Harry's mouth, and he quickly spit it out. The other vampire seemed shocked, though that Harry was able to grab his neck again and tear his head off. The vampire vanished, and Harry lay there for a moment, exhausted.

"Sybil!" Harry heard the shout and looked over to see Sybil arch downward, looking at the stake in her chest with horror. She hit the ground with a poof before disappearing. Dorian moved forward with lightning speed toward whoever had done that.

With a drop in his stomach, Harry realised that "whoever had done that" turned out to be Nathanial.

Harry pulled himself up, but Dorian had already reached out. Everything seemed to turn into slow motion. As he pulled himself up he could see Dorian's hand pulling backwards and hitting Nathanial with full force. Nathanial went flying, a horrible crunching sound hitting him.

Spells thrown at Dorian missed as he ran, and Harry rushed forward as well; he was closer to Nathanial. But suddenly the other vampire hit him from behind, taking him down. Harry barely could make a sound as he watched Dorian pick Nathanial up.

A heart-shattering scream came from Nathanial as Dorian bit down, tearing out a chunk of flesh out of his shoulder as he yanked back. The red curse seemed to hover mid-air, and as if he knew what was coming, Dorian turned around, using Nathanial as a shield. Robert's Cruciatus hit Nathanial instead.

"Watch him die," the vampire in his ear whispered. Those words were like a trigger, and Harry found the strength to pull that one off of himself and pull himself off of the ground. His legs felt like lead as he ran again toward Nathanial. Dorian's and Nathanial's eyes snapped toward him.

"Harry..." Nathanial gargled. Dorian's movement seemed to be amazingly slow, and as he twisted Nathanial's neck, Harry could feel himself scream. Nathanial's body slumped and fell to the ground as Harry tackled Dorian. His throat felt raw as his fists repeatedly smacked at Dorian's chest, but Dorian merely chuckled.

"This is what it means to be a vampire. Pretend you're not one, but even your precious mate is in Azkaban because of it. Whatever bullshit reason they gave –" Harry's fist moved down to Dorian's mouth and his upper lip tore open. Dorian cried out in pain finally and his mouth reached down, teeth plunging into Harry's chest. They moved downward, cutting into Harry and creating two parallel gorges down his chest.

Pain flooded his body as Dorian flipped over on top of him, reaching toward his neck. Harry's eyes swivelled and fell upon Dorian's wand. Grabbing it, he stabbed forward, piercing Dorian through the chest.

The vampire's jaw slacked as his hands loosened from Harry's neck. "No..." For a moment he seemed almost human, cowering, fearing death. And then he slumped on top of Harry, disappearing in a cloud of dust. It was the last thing Harry saw before the black that swum in the corners of his eyes clouded the rest of his vision.


	21. Chapter 21

**Author's Note**: I promise I haven't completely disappeared. I should probably update this fic, huh? Heh... Man, do you ever read something you wrote a long time ago, and you feel silly because it seems bad to you now? That's kind of like what this fic is to me (it was complete by the time I posted the first few chapters, just unedited). Actually, it's just very loosely edited (err, oops), but here's chapter twenty-one!

Chapter 21

"Harry, are you okay?" Harry stared vacantly in front of him. For the past three days people had come into his hospital room congratulating him on his fantastic success. Hermione had told him that Nathanial's funeral had taken place during the three days he had been passed out.

He had not only lost enormous amounts of blood, but Dorian had managed to dig deep enough with his teeth that he had injected some venom into Harry's heart. It had taken a while for him to recover, but by now he was almost good as new. They just wanted to keep him to make sure the venom wouldn't have some long-term effects.

"I'm fine," Harry lied. Nathanial's death had played in his head over and over again since the raid. Of course, they had been successful. Dorian and the rest of the vampires were dead. And while he was happy every time he thought about the fact that Dorian would no longer be able to hurt anyone, it didn't mean that he thought they had won.

Even looking past Nathanial's death, how many of those vampires had been brainwashed or were innocent. What if they had just needed a place to stay? What if the only reason they put up any kind of a fight was because they were afraid that they would get killed.

"Harry, are you listening to me?" Harry nodded, although he had no clue what Hermione had just said. "No you weren't. Harry, please." He looked up at Hermione, although he said nothing else. "We found a cure." Suddenly, he felt frozen. A cure – was it even possible? "I think it's going to be painful, but it shouldn't be any worse than turning."

"You're sure it's going to work?" He had even forgotten about turning back into a human. Being a vampire felt so natural. Did he really want to change back? What if something went wrong? Maybe it was safer to just stay like this...

"I'm almost entirely positive. Harry, please, I'm not saying you're going to magically get better, but something will change if you become human again. It's affecting you more than you know." Hermione still didn't understand.

"It isn't that. What if I killed an innocent one, one like me? And what about Nathanial?"

"I haven't seen you like this since the war. What happened with Nathanial exactly?" She sat down beside him on the bed and handed him the vial of blood. "Drink it." He shook his head. His stomach hurt, but he wanted to save it. It was the only thing that was truly _Draco_ anymore. And every time it was gone he just felt like he hurt more. "Harry James Potter, you will drink this right now." Her bossy tone managed to even make him laugh.

"Geez, Hermione. I'll do it." He uncorked it, and downed it. Like always, it tasted off since it wasn't fresh, but it still was better than nothing. He relaxed a little as Hermione leaned over, fixing his pillows.

"Now, tell me what happened with Nathanial."

"I couldn't save him. It was like Draco with William. I mean, I didn't love him, but still. He needed my help, and I just had to watch him die. He wanted to be my friend, I think. And it was his first case." Harry felt sick, almost as if he was going to vomit. "He hadn't even turned eighteen yet. Did you know that?" She shook her head, her eyes widening. "Kingsley told me. I asked him. He had just gotten out of Hogwarts half a year ago. He should've had his whole life ahead of him. But I was too incompetent to save him."

"That's not your fault. Someone else could've tried to get him free."

"They weren't able to."

"Harry, you can't blame yourself. He went in there knowing the risks." She reached over, her hand hovering above his. Harry pulled away. "Look, remember the vampire you threw against a wall?" That thought seemed to familiar.

"Yeah, what of him?"

"We captured him alive. Kingsley wasn't sure whether this would upset you or not... I shouldn't be telling you this." She fidgeted and scooted closer.

"Tell me what exactly?" After a pause, she leaned forward, looking around suspiciously as if the walls had ears.

"They were all centuries old. They all knew what Dorian was doing and they all supported him. They let go of the 'innocents' or whatever you call them because they found out that you had given them freedom. They were afraid that if they knew where they were, one of them might escape and alert us. The ones you killed were like Death Eaters for vampires." Harry mulled this over. If it was true... But why would that have been a big secret?

"Why didn't Kingsley want me to know this?"

"We killed him – the last one. He was afraid you might get angry knowing they were all dead. But you did a good thing." A smile started to spread across Harry's face, but wavered as Hermione spoke again. "Look, if you're going to take the potion, I recommend you do it now. We're going to do it at the hospital in case anything happens to you."

"I don't know whether I want to..."

"Why not?"

"If it works, Draco will take it too." Hermione looked confused. "Hermione, what he loves about me is everything he saw in William."

"It could've changed. I mean, you're the only person that's stood by his side throughout all of this."

"William would have done the same. Can we change topics?" Hermione paused for a moment, and then nodded.

"Sure."

"Just a question..." Although he had wanted to ask, he hadn't had the chance to quite yet. "I don't want to talk about it for long, but what exactly happened with Lucius Malfoy?"

"Well, he has a life sentence in Azkaban."

"No, not that. Why did he change me into a vampire?" Hermione sighed and strummed her fingers on the table.

"He wanted to hurt you. Well, he actually hoped to kill you. But he thought that if you were turned into a vampire, we'd kill you, thinking that you were a threat. And he also didn't want it to be traced back to him. I mean, Draco was the only person who he thought had any chance of telling, but he thought Draco was under his wing."

"Under his wing?"

"He just thought that he could control him. And he didn't really expect Draco to be your mate. Who knows what might've happened had some stranger been your mate." Harry nodded. Of course, the thought was impossible to grasp. He couldn't imagine falling for anyone except for the blond.

"I see..."

"But you see what I mean?" Harry nodded. Yet again there was more proof that Draco had helped. And still he was rotting away in Azkaban.

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Hermione had managed to convince him to take the potion. It tasted vile, and as he tried swallowing it, he could already feel the transformation starting to take place. He screamed as the room faded out from around him and liquid fire burned and froze within him at the same time. His heart groaned as it tried to start again, and the first thump echoed throughout him.

Harry thought it was never going to end. It reached all the way to the tips of his fingers. It felt as if nails were growing inside of him and piercing through him. Like someone was peeling his skin off. Like he was being bathed in some sort of acid.

When Harry finally awoke, it was with frantic faces above him. "Is he going to be alright? Oh, God, Mr. Potter? Can you hear me, Mr. Potter?" A Healer was hovering above him and slowly came into sight. Harry tried to speak, but he found his voice to be raspy. He barely managed to make out a few sounds before the Healer started speaking again. "I've never heard anyone scream like that for twelve hours straight. Bloody hell..." True enough, his throat hurt. Harry propped himself up, reaching over for his glasses on the bedside table.

"I'm fine," he mouthed. _I'm fine..._ Shaking his head in disbelief, Harry's hands reached up toward his teeth and he felt along the edge. They weren't sharp. "Mirror," he mouthed, and trying mimicking looking into one. Ron nodded and jumped up. "Err, Accio mirror!" One flew into his hands and he handed it to Harry.

"Here you go, mate." Ron beamed down at him. Harry could tell by his rumpled clothes that he had stayed her all night. Hermione was awake too, and she paced back and forth.

He could see himself – messy hair, his father's eyes and all. And he had never felt happier. Hell, he wasn't narcissistic, but somehow he had imagined that he would look different. Still, he was the same old Harry that he remembered. He wanted to express his joy, but no words came out of his mouth. Still, he beamed at Ron and Hermione who beamed right back at him.

"This might do this trick," the Healer said, smiling as well. She handed him a potion, which Harry eagerly gulped down.

"Testing, testing..." His voice sounded broken, but at least he could talk.

"I'm really glad it worked, mate," Ron added, awkwardly patting him on the shoulder. "And I can actually touch you without Hermione going mental on me."

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione flung herself forward, squishing Harry in a giant hug, knocking the breath out of him.

"I think you might have gotten my super-strength, Hermione. Let go, please."

"Oh, right, sorry," she pulled back, and shrugged, still smiling like a madwoman. "You're alright. You really are."

"I seem to be." For once something had worked out like it was supposed to. He was _human_.

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Sometimes Harry felt as if he was just going through the same actions. Even at work there would be times where he'd stare vacantly in front of him. Wake up, get ready, eat breakfast, go to work, come home, eat dinner, sleep. Rinse and repeat. Some days went by easier than others. And some days barely went at all. There were times where he felt as if it was impossible that he was human again, it hurt so much. He'd wake up crying and screaming in the middle of the night, staring at the empty pillow beside him.

If nothing else, it had been proof that he had fallen for Draco. There was something about the blond that was so damn amazing, and he could feel his absence everywhere. It frightened him. What was he going to do once Draco came back from Azkaban? There was nothing linking them anymore. He didn't need Draco's blood or touch to survive. Why would Draco even want to help him? It was only thanks to him that he was in Azkaban.

The days counted down. Winter came and went, and the flowers blossomed. It seemed to rain every day leading up to the release, and Harry would just stare outside the window. He'd watch the trees sway in the wind and the grey clouds descend. Sometimes he'd even go outside and stand there, much to the amusement of many of the onlookers. The rain cleared his head.

Soon there were only three more days left. Harry could hardly believe it. It had seemed like ages while it was happening, but now that it was over, it seemed impossible to admit that was six months. Harry couldn't sleep those last three days. Every time he closed his eyes, Draco sparkled behind his eyelids, taunting him. He was just out of reach, and every time Harry would try to imagine facing him again, Draco would suddenly turn angry and snarl at him.

Of course, Draco was still a vampire. Kingsley had refused to let them do anything about that. It was, he believed, only fair for him to get equal treatment as everyone else. He could get blood because that was almost a matter of life or death – or, at least, a matter of torture. In turning him human, he would be given a favour. That was only to happen after he had been released. Would Draco even be able to look at him after this whole mess?

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Harry shuffled his feet and stared at the empty stretch ahead of him. The sky was a brilliant stretch of purple. It was slightly chilly, and Harry hugged his leather jacket before sitting down. He curled up, arms wound around his knees. It was a strange spot to be reunited with someone, Harry couldn't help but think. It was almost pretty, even if it was cold. It was fairly close to Azkaban, though, and it was an easy spot to Apparate to.

Still, it was strange. Harry almost felt as if he was in a Muggle landscape painting. It was unusually picturesque and altogether quite unrepresentative of how Harry felt. He stared ahead of him waiting. He had only been here for fifteen minutes. He was sure Draco wouldn't get here for at least another fifteen. He had come half an hour earlier than he was supposed to. The last thing he wanted was for Draco to appear and have to wait for him.

Grabbing a piece of grass, he plucked it out of the root and began tearing it to pieces. His stomach tumbled and rumbled. He hadn't been capable of holding food down either. Every time he tried to eat, and Hermione had forced him to multiple times now, he ended up vomiting. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate the food; it was just that he couldn't handle it. The thought of Draco made him obscenely nervous. What would Draco say to him? It had been six months, and he hadn't exactly been off at a vacation resort.

"Oh, hi, Draco, long time no see," he muttered to himself. _Yeah, that would go over well_.

"I guess it has been..." The wearied voice made Harry's head jump up. Draco stood several metres away from him, a wizard by his side. The wizard bowed his head and Apparated away, leaving the two of them alone. Oh, God, Draco was here with him. What was he going to do? Before he could stop himself, Harry flung up to his feet and rushed at Draco, wrapping his arms around him.

"I'm missed you so much. Oh, God. Draco..." He could feel Draco tense up underneath his grasp, but he couldn't let go. He just hugged tighter, feeling as if letting go would suddenly make Draco nothing more than a phantom memory. Suddenly Draco's hands pushed him in the chest, and Harry stumbled backwards.

"Your blood... Harry, I can't." He reached over with his arm, covering his nose. It was only then that Harry noticed how incredibly gaunt Draco looked. He could see the bones in his arms, and his face looked like someone had squeezed all of the life out of it. If he was able to smile it would have surprised Harry. The realisation of what had happened seemed to hit Harry all over again, and suddenly he found himself coughing, barely able to breathe. Tears squeezed out of his eyes, and he moved closer to Draco.

"No, I trust you." But Draco merely shook his head weakly, taking a few more steps back. He looked completely unlike himself, so out of it and frightened, his back bent over slightly as his eyes flashed. It was obvious he barely could keep himself from lunging at Harry.

"I didn't believe them. I could taste the difference, but seeing you as a mortal..." Draco shuddered. "I can hear your heart beat." Harry moved forward, stretching out his neck.

"Take it Draco. Please." The blond snarled, losing self-restraint and moving forward. His teeth pierced Harry's skin. The pain was amazing, and it flashed through him. Quickly it was replaced but that warm feeling Harry had obsessively tried to imagine for the past few months. Moaning, Harry wrapped his hands around Draco, using him as support. The blond took a giant gulp, and Harry could already feel himself getting dizzy. He pushed slightly at his chest, but Draco continued drinking. Harry could feel the warmth, and pushed up against Draco again. Draco's bulge pressed against his thigh, and Harry gasped. He could barely focus.

"Draco..." Harry whispered, trying yet again to weakly get away. The words seemed to spark something, and Draco leapt back, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

"That was dangerous! How could you – I could have killed you..." Draco's eyes flashed with fear at the thought. Still, Harry couldn't help that he at least had more colour in his cheeks. Taking out hid wand, he pressed the tip to the wound, and with a shaking hand sealed the wound.

"But you didn't." Draco still shook his head angrily, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Why are you still being so nice to me?" He finally asked when he had calmed down a bit. His voice was small, and he looked like a small child in need of comfort. Harry stepped forward, pulling Draco into a hug. His hand stroke Draco's back soothingly, and the blond trembled under his touch.

"Let's sit down," Harry muttered, and the two of them moved toward the grass. When they were seated comfortably, Harry spoke again. "I don't know whether you remember what I said before, but I –" He couldn't believe he was going to say this. Harry had compulsively repeatedly the words to himself for six months, and yet he had never dared to say them aloud. There was something different in speaking them, especially to _him_. "I love you, Draco. You were all I could think about. When you were gone, it hurt. I felt so alone..." Draco shook his head, looking as if he was going to cry.

"I was hoping you would change while I was gone."

"Change?" The words hit Harry, and he choked. "How can I change? Do you want me to stop loving you? Well, I'm sorry; I have no control over that." His voice cracked as he began crying again. Angrily he tried to push the tears back, but they came, and he used his sleeve to wipe them away. "It's not like I expected you to feel the same way. Fucking Harry Potter – it's not like I'm William or anything." Draco's hand reached out, and he wiped at a tear droplet that had stopped at Harry's nose.

"I don't know how I'm going to feel when I change. If I could make myself love you, I would." Harry laughed coldly, glaring at the grass. He knew that if he looked up at Draco he would just break down again. "This isn't coming out right. You've done more for me than anyone else. There wasn't a day that went by that I wasn't thankful that you were there. I – I can't do this now." He shakily attempted to get up, but only managed to pull himself half-up before he collapsed again, cradling his head in his hands.

"Look, let's not talk about it, then," Harry said. It was odd seeing Draco so fragile. The blond he knew was too proud to break down in front of him. Yet Draco unashamedly melted before him. He looked up at Harry with wide, terrified eyes, and Harry practically melted. Leaning forward, Harry pressed their lips together, shuddering as Draco immediately wrapped his arms around him. Draco pushed, and Harry toppled backwards onto the grass.

"God, I've missed you." Draco's tongue probed through Harry's lips and he tentatively reached out, tasting Harry. Harry groaned as Draco's hands pinned his own back against the soft ground. Their lips clashed, and Harry arched upward into the blond.

In Draco's mouth he could taste his own blood. The metallic taste was odd, but as Draco's pulled back, his hand sliding down Harry's chest, those thoughts were drowned away. With a small pop, the button on his trousers came undone. Draco's hand pushed underneath the boxers. Draco placed a trail of kisses up to his ear and lapped at his jawbone. "You taste so good."

Harry couldn't even reply. Draco gave a solid tug at his cock, and any words were lost somewhere in his moan. Draco's mouth moved over, and he nibbled his ear lightly, and his other hand moved to Harry's hair, yanking it back. The blond's tongue traced out his Adam's apple before moving lower. Draco's fingers hooked around the cloth and tugged downward.

"Fuck me, here? Draco, you're shameless," Harry panted, chuckling quietly. The words barely left his throat, and he went to move his hands upward.

"No," Draco growled. "_Incarcerous_." Ropes appeared, tying Harry's wrists together. Draco's eyes flashed in a sort of sick delight. Strangely enough, or rather, not strangely at all, Harry didn't mind. A part of him had longed to feel helpless, as he knew Draco could make him feel. Draco's teeth elongated and he used the tip to tear open the buttons on Harry's shirt. Gently he sucked at the skin, his tongue darting out. "_Mine_." The possessive tone to Draco's voice made Harry's cock twitch. Draco's fingers unravelled, and they instead tickled the inside of Harry's thighs.

"Tease," Harry managed to gasp out. His cock ached for Draco's touch, but the blond instead changed course, kissing him again. He suckled on Harry's lower lip, kneading it between his teeth. Somehow Harry had forgotten how amazing it felt. Draco's fingers moved toward the sensitive nubs on his chest, and he tweaked them, giving a satisfied purr as Harry mewled.

"You're such a slut, love," Draco said as Harry arched upward. But Draco's eyes caught on Harry's cock in its full glory, and he paused. It leaked against Harry's stomach, begging to be taken. Draco's mouth watered, and he moved downward, kissing the skin of Harry's thighs. Harry desperately thrust his hips forward. "But you're my little slut. Do you know how you look, Harry? You're desperate, and I can smell how badly you want to come. I can feel you humming, dying for me to suck your cock. That's what you want, isn't it?" Harry nodded, unable to form anything other than a gargled sound. "Are you sure? I can't hear you, love."

Draco licked Harry's inner thigh and bit down. As the blood rushed into Draco's mouth, Harry shouted. He could feel everything inside of him tense up. Draco must have sensed it as well because he pulled away, smirking. "Don't you want it? I still can't hear you." The tip of his tongue snatched the little beads of blood that formed where Draco had bitten, and he let them rest for a moment before he tasted it. Draco's face relaxed, and he let out an exaggerated moan.

"Of course I fucking want it." Harry struggled against the bounds, but the material merely scratched at his wrists.

"Would you be willing to beg for it?" His hand moved back to Harry's chest and he splayed his fingers out, rubbing the sensitive skin lightly.

"Please Draco..." Draco pulled away, feigning disinterest. "_Pleasepleasepleasefuckmesuck me_." His words blended together. "Please, I lo-" He cut off as Draco took him whole, his teeth scraping only lightly against the head. Harry arched upward, feeling everything inside of him expand and explode. He felt himself topple over the edge, and every nerve ending tingled as that feeling slowly ebbed away. Gasping for breath, he looked up at Draco and blushed. Some of his come dribbled down Draco's chin.

"My turn, love." Draco's expression disappeared as the blond flipped him over so that he could smell the musty ground. Faintly Harry could hear Draco muttering some spell, and there was a slight squishing sound. Then there was only the gentle probe behind him.

Draco's finger slipped between his cheeks, pushing against his hole. Already he felt his cock twitch again. He eased two fingers in, though, and Harry's gasp turned to one of pain. Draco was making small humming sounds attempting to calm him, but Harry squirmed uncomfortably, still limited by the ropes. But them Draco's finger hit that spot inside of him and he lit up.

"So, wanton..." Draco whispered, his eyes focusing as Harry's toes curled. He traced the shape of Harry's body as if trying to memorise it, and he continued to stroke that spot in Harry. Harry could barely comprehend how his body reacted, how he overflowed and every bit of him filled with warmth. Harry desperately pushed backward, trying to get more friction, and Draco obliged by adding another finger.

While the intrusion was uncomfortable, it was nothing compared to the pleasure that accompanied it. Harry pushed backward even more desperately, nearly coming undone as Draco fucked him with his fingers.

As Draco pulled out, Harry felt the cold hit him. There was the sound of a zipper being undone and then a pause. It seemed to last forever as Harry waited for what was to come, yet eventually he did feel the head of Draco's cock pressed against him. "I want to fuck you so badly. Six months..." Draco groaned and cut off as he slid into Harry. The burn put off Harry a bit, but then Draco thrust, shifting angles, and that spot light on fire again.

He could tell that Draco was already close. There had been so much leading up to this that it didn't take long for either of them to finish, a mere few thrusts was enough to do it for the blond. He came with a shout and Harry felt the warmth fill him up. He groaned as Draco reached underneath him, grabbing his cock and tugging rhythmically.

"Come for me," Draco groaned, pulling out with a strange _pop_. The silkiness of his voice was enough to do it, and Harry came undone for the second time, throwing his head back as stars shot before his eyes.

They collapsed on the grass, and it was only then that Harry noticed that the sun had set in the meantime. The stars glittered above them, and Harry flipped over as the bounds around his wrist came undone. For a moment all Harry could hear was the whistle of the grass in the breeze and their loud breathing, but then Draco's hand shot up.

"See that?" He pointed at a group of stars. "It's supposed to look like a dragon."

"What of it?" Harry could vaguely see what Draco was talking about. It looked more like a snake with a box for a head to him.

"That constellation is called Draco." That sounded familiar.

"Did we learn this in astronomy?"

"Probably." He paused. "And do you see that one over there? That star, I mean." Harry looked over to where Draco was pointing and noticed an unusually bright spot of light.

"Yeah..."

"That one is Sirius." Harry could hear Draco hold his breath. "I'm sorry, for everything that happened. For Fred and Lupin and Sirius...for Dumbledore." Harry nodded even though Draco wasn't looking at him.

"I know." Harry knew Draco wanted to hear more, to hear the words _I forgive you_ come out of his mouth, but he couldn't do that. It wasn't his fault, and he didn't blame in. As much as Draco had been pushed onto the other side, what had happened had happened. It was merely in the past.


	22. Chapter 22

**Author's Note**: Finals are almost over, and I'm finally on break. Hooray! I know I've kept you waiting for far too long, but here is the twenty-second chapter of Bitten.

Chapter 22

Draco's breaths became more and more shallow, and Harry listened as Draco slowly fell asleep. He urged his eyes to stay open, and instead stared at Draco. What would they do when he was human again? Would he forget about him? The thought made Harry's breath catch in his throat. But what would Draco need him for after that?

As is if realising that Harry was thinking about him, Draco nuzzled closer in his sleep, smiling. "Probably dreaming of William again," Harry muttered. He felt as if he was unfairly bitter for someone who had just slept with Draco, yet he couldn't help it. If anything, Draco would only want to be friends with him, a thought that hit Harry like a slap. He couldn't imagine talking to Draco and being told they couldn't hold hands or kiss... Or what about when Draco actually got a respectable boyfriend – Harry shuddered at the thought.

He stared out at the sky trying to memorise how it felt to hold Draco against him. The silkiness of his hair, the way he twitched slightly at random intervals, the almost inaudible noises he made – it was all wonderful and _Draco_. But soon the sky began to get lighter.

"Oh, shit! Draco!" Harry shook him, and Draco groggily woke up.

"What is it?"

"Apparate. Now. The sun's coming up." That seemed to wake Draco up. "Grab onto me." Draco's arms wrapped around his waist and with a crack they landed outside the apartment complex. The sun was going to be up in a matter of minutes. Harry stumbled, opening the doors and rushing inside, dragging Draco along with him. The moment they had ran upstairs and safely pulled into his flat, Harry's heartbeat slowed down. He looked over at Draco who smirked at him. "What?"

"You're still naked," Draco mused, moving forward and lightly running his fingers down Harry's chest. Harry noticed that while Draco had a shirt on, he was merely wearing boxers. In those few horrible moments he hadn't even noticed how ridiculous Draco looked.

"Well, you're one to talk." He couldn't concentrate as Draco slowly lapped at his neck.

"I can feel your heartbeat." Harry nodded and tiled Draco's head so that their lips met. His hands went at Draco's boxers and he tugged the cloth down. Breaking off the kiss, he went to his knees, gawking at Draco's already-leaking cock. Draco was unashamed. Harry's cheeks flushed as he leaned forward, tasting the tip.

There was a _whoosh _from the fireplace and a subsequent scream.

"Oh, God. Merlin, this isn't what I –" Hermione squawked. "Mornin' you two. Glad to see you're – err – up and at 'em." She continued to cover her eyes, and Harry grabbed at his wand.

"Accio clothes." Draco put his boxers back on, scowling as his erection slowly faded. There was nothing like an interruption like that to ruin the moment. Harry put on a mismatched shirt and chequered skinny jeans. Draco's eyebrow arched up quizzically. "They were a joke from Seamus." Draco merely chuckled to himself.

"You can look now." Hermione uncovered her eyes, and Harry looked over to see that she was a deep shade of scarlet.

"Right."

Another _whoosh_ sounded, and Ron came stumbling in as well. "Sorry I'm late! I hope I didn't miss any group hugs."

"No, just – err – Well, whatever that was," Hermione muttered, jumping slightly.

"It's called a blowjob, Granger. If you don't know what that is by now, I suggest you get a new boyfriend." Ron's jaw dropped as he walked over to the couch.

"Then I'm just glad I'm late."

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They had decided to change Draco that day. Draco had admitted that while he enjoyed some of the aspects of being a vampire, his goal in life was not to remain one. So, they had Apparated to Draco's flat, hoping that he might feel more comfortable with the transformation there. Hermione and Ron were planning to stay with him all night to make sure that things went smoothly, which, Hermione assured him, they would.

"Just know, he's going to scream a lot. It doesn't mean that it's bad, but it just means... Harry, you screamed all twelve hours you were turning back. I know it's going to be hard to hear. Do you think you'll be able to handle it?" Harry had nodded. The thought was horrifying, but he knew he had to stay strong and be there for Draco.

Draco's apartment looked like something out of a magazine. Ron and Hermione had gone before to clean it of any garlic or non-vampire-friendly objects. Harry was surprised he had never seen it before. The floor was tiled with pure white marble and the furniture was all leather and clearly designer. It was spotless, and paintings hung from the walls. Harry tilted his head as he looked at one of them. It was Draco's face repeated with different colour schemes.

"Haven't you ever heard of Andy Warhol?" Draco asked, rolling his eyes.

"Well, I've _heard_ of him. And I thought he was dead."

"Merlin, Muggles think so. He's working in the wizarding world right now. He got into a bit of a mess. Valerie Solanas already tried to kill him once." Harry tilted his head but nodded, not wanting to be questioned anymore by Draco. Clearly there was a lot he hadn't learned.

"Maybe we should go to your bed. You know, to be comfortable." Harry blushed as Draco's smirk became more defined.

"More comfortable than the grass last night for sure," he purred, licking his lips. Harry's cheeks heated up even more, and he nudged Draco, pointing at Ron and Hermione. Luckily his two friends were too busy admiring Draco's apartment and hadn't heard Draco.

"Don't do anything you won't regret when you're... normal." The words stung, but Harry kept a straight face.

"Good point." And Draco's mere acceptance of this – as if it were fact – served only to make him feel worse. Draco didn't seem to notice this, though, and instead glanced around his apartment. "I've missed this place."

They trudged over to the bed and Hermione pulled out a vial. "Drink this. I've changed it a bit to fit you, but it should be fine. It'll be just as painful as the process of turning into a vampire, though. More painful, from what I gather. Your heart needs to start itself again and –"

"Nothing you haven't told me before, Granger," Draco said, looking less confident than before. "Just give me it." Hermione scowled. "Please."

The moment the liquid touched his lips, Draco's face distorted into a snarl. That only lasted a moment, though. Quickly it transformed into a look of pure pain, and suddenly he was screaming. His fingers curled around the cloth, and yet his eyes were clenched shut. Hermione lifted her wand and conjured ropes, and Draco was immediately tied to the bed.

"What the bloody hell are you doing?" Harry asked, reaching for Draco.

"We had to do this to you for a little while as well. After the first two hours we can lift them, but he'll get pretty – err – jumpy soon." As if to prove a point, Draco struggled against the constraints, writhing on the bed. His voice swelled in volume, and Harry closed his eyes, willing himself to go on. He wasn't even minutes in and already he was breaking down. This wasn't a good sign. Taking deep breaths he opened them again. Draco continued to struggle and his mouth was wide open.

"I'll be out here if you need me," Hermione said. She walked off, looking pale. Ron scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably.

"She doesn't deal well with this. She had to leave when you were under the potion as well. Look, if you need us, we'll just be in the living room. Come get us when he's done. And maybe you could cast a –" Harry nodded.

"Sure." As soon as the door to the bedroom had closed behind them, he grabbed his wand, casting silencing spells around the room. With those spells Hermione wouldn't be able to hear thing. And if he really needed her, he could just run out there. Sitting down next to Draco he waited for it to stop.

By the time Draco had finished moving Harry was already breaking down. His entire body shook, and he barely was able to cast a spell to lift the bonds. Draco's body was now limp, and yet he continued screeching at the top of his lungs. The sounds were worse than those that the Cruciatus Curse made. Every second stretched out and all he wanted to do was shove his head under a pillow and make it go away. Yet he resisted. Instead he moved over to Draco's bed and cradled Draco head in his lap. As he stroked Draco's hair, Draco noticeably relaxed, yet he kept on making those horrid sounds.

The entire night Harry moved around the room. At one point, he was staring around the room and trying to distract himself when he caught something upon Draco's dresser by his bed. A part of him felt bad snooping, but the parchment was in plain sight. If Draco had wanted to conceal it he could have. But the paper was clearly worn. Apparently, it was something Draco had read ceaselessly. Yet upon picking it up, he cringed. It was a letter from William. It wasn't even anything written particularly well.

_Dear Draco,_

_You're not here._

_I just wanted to say that I love_

_you and I miss you._

_Yours,_

_William_

It was barely even a love letter. Perhaps a miscounted haiku was a better way to describe it. William had probably scribbled it down as a brief note, something that was meant to be thrown away. Yet Draco had kept it after all these years, and clearly it had meant something. Parts of it were worn to the point that Harry could almost see through it. Sighing, he placed it down and stared at Draco instead. Now he needed a distraction from his distraction.

Wonderful.

Morosely, he waited. And waited. Draco's screams seemed to echo even after they had faded into harsh whimpers. It was almost eleven hours after he had taken the potion that they suddenly faded. Draco shifted slightly, and then his eyes shot open. Glancing around the room, he opened his mouth to say something, but only managed a weak choking sound.

"Hermione! Hermione!" Harry ran out of the room and shook Hermione awake. Ron jumped up immediately as well, wand in hand.

"Merlin, you scared us," the ginger muttered, rubbing his eyes.

"Draco's awake." Hermione instantly scrambled to her feet and ran into the room with a vial. She poured it down Draco's throat, and he coughed a bit.

"What are you doing, Granger? Wait –" He paused and smiled. "I can talk. And I'm normal." He felt his skin and stopped at his neck, feeling the heartbeat. He smiled broadly at all of them. The two of them shuffled, uncertain about what to say or do. Harry's look made them start.

"I guess we should be off." Draco gave a hollow laugh.

"I need to talk to Harry." Harry's two best mates shuffled off and there was the _whoosh_ of the fireplace. Draco sighed and pulled himself up. "Look, Harry, there's something I need to get out." Harry didn't like the way Draco spoke so gravely. Yet what had he expected – kissing and snuggling? Pulling himself close to the bed, he sat down and stared at Draco intently.

"Yes?"

"I need a break from all of this. I need to try to find myself again. I did some things to you that I feel terribly about. When I came to you, it was just about William, but after all that we've been through it's impossible to leave without feeling... something. No one's cared about me as much as you have. You've stayed with me even through Azkaban, cutting yourself open every day just so that I could be happier."

"You wouldn't have survived..." Harry mumbled, looking away. He couldn't look into those bright eyes and keep from crying. Just hearing Draco tell him that he _didn't want him anymore_ made it a struggle to push them back.

"But you could have sent it once a week or twice. It didn't have to be every day."

"I didn't want you to get hurt." Harry's voice was small. "You're making it a way bigger deal than it was." If only he could convince himself to believe that...

"No, you were fantastic. And you said it yourself, Harry, I'm not deaf. You love me."

"I didn't want to force you to do anything. Just ignore that. I mean, it's not like you can let go of William..."

"Exactly," he said, and grabbed Harry's hand. It took effort not to pull away. "William meant the world to me, and when I went to you I thought it would be simple. I feel like an idiot. But you were like him in so many ways. I don't know what to think anymore. But I know that I need some time to recuperate from being a vampire and from Azkaban." Harry nodded. Draco leaned in, placing a feathery kiss on his lips. He hadn't kissed him because he needed to. Harry's heart skipped a beat.

"When can I –"

"I'll find you. If you keep on wearing clothes like that, it shouldn't be hard."

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At times it was hard to convince himself to keep from finding Draco. Half of his dreams revolved around Draco. It was hard to concentrate sometimes, and it got to the point where Kingsley called him out on it. Hermione and Ron tried their best to deal with him, but even they had trouble dealing with him. He could barely wait for Draco to end the silence.

It had been four months, after all. Summer was here, and the sultry weather did little to calm him. He'd toss and turn at night, unable to find a comfortable position to sleep in. At times he'd just leave, walking down the streets. At one point a Muggle had attempted to rob him at gunpoint, and he hadn't even attempted to defend himself. It wasn't like he was carrying anything anyway, so the man had nothing to steal.

Harry began to wake up early and usually went out again right after sunrise. There was something calm about the streets when they were mostly empty. Diagon Alley, for example, tended to have a thin layer of mist across it, and it gave off a comforting, albeit lonely feel.

There was a bakery that had been recently opened. Harry rarely bothered with making breakfast. It was easier to wander around. It seemed to be the only way he could focus later. Kingsley had noticed his seclusion, but, at least for the past few weeks, he ignored it. Harry was doing better at work if nothing else.

Harry shuffled past the magazine stand, glancing at the moving covers. He was about to go past and to the bakery when something caught his eye. Glancing over, he saw Draco laughing on a magazine cover. He smiled momentarily until he realized: there was someone else holding his hand. The guy standing next to Draco looked over at him adoringly. He was attractive, Harry had to admit. And by the looks of it, he was a model as well. Snatching the magazine, he scanned down until he saw what he wanted: **Interview with Draco Malfoy on 194.**

He flipped through the pages, but the guy selling it interrupted him. "Oi, if you're going to treat 'em like that, you have to buy them." Shoving his hands into his pocket, Harry dished out a few coins and dropped them into the man's hand before he walked away.

**The Model Boyfriend**

_We can all recall when Draco Malfoy, a highly acclaimed model, came out of the closet last year by Harry Potter's side. But I guess the Golden Boy wasn't able to hold onto everything. Draco has recently announced that he is dating another model, Aiden Milligan. Our very own Winston McKinley was lucky enough to get a chance to interview him._

**WM: **So, whatever happened to you and good ole Harry Potter? You two seemed glued to each other at the trial. Are you two still friends?

**DM:** Well, you know, things [pause] they change. We're not really on speaking terms, but I guess it's better that way.

**WM: **Oh, rough breakup?

**DM:** No, it was actually mutual. But I think some time alone is doing us both well.

**WM**: But you're not really alone, are you?

**DM**: [laughs] No, I'm lucky enough to have Aiden.

**WM:** Care to tell us about this lucky boy? Or, well, how about you tell us one thing you really like about him?

**DM:** Well, he's really sweet. He cares about me more than anyone I know.

Harry put down the article, unable to read anymore. He gasped for breath, suddenly feeling his chest constrict. Words like "mutual" danced in front of him when he shut his eyes, and he found his wand. Fumbling around, he Apparated. There was a sharp pain in his back when he landed, and he stumbled toward his flat. The pain intensified with each step, yet he kept on moving. He had barely made it inside when it dawned on him what had happened. _I've splinched_. He hobbled toward the Floo, desperate to get to anyone, but he was having trouble staying up. Everything began to turn black at the edges, and suddenly the floor was coming at him.

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"Oh, God, Harry. Please, just say you're okay." Hermione's worried face swam into blurry view. Harry reached over, putting his glasses on. His throat felt pinched, and he trembled. Kingsley stuck out of his peripherals, but Harry didn't even care at this point. Kingsley already knew how he felt about Draco.

"He lied," Harry choked, staring at Hermione. "He lied to me..."

"What are you talking about, mate?" Ron appeared as well, and Harry felt a sudden surge of appreciation for all his friends. Still, it wasn't enough to keep away the flood of tears.

"He's gone." It was Ginny that appeared next. Harry heard her voice before he saw her.

"It's Draco, isn't it?" she asked, edging forward. Harry nodded, barely able to form words. He felt betrayed, but beyond that, he felt his heart rupture and every bit of him _hurt_. Draco hadn't just lied, but he had purposefully tried to hurt him. "Did you see him?" Harry shook his head.

"An – There's an article," he managed to choke out. Kingsley strode out of the room immediately after this. They only had to wait a few minutes though before he reappeared, magazine in hand.

"I thought he would have understood what pain meant after what we saw in the Pensive. I thought he had changed. Clearly six months wasn't enough for him," Kingsley spat, glaring at the article. Everyone seemed to crowd around it, and they all made a variety of disgusted noises, chiming in with their own commentary.

"That little git. I'm going to kill him, I swear I will," Ron growled, but Hermione gently squeezed his shoulder, and he deflated. "I'm so sorry, Harry." Harry barely knew how to respond.

"Am I fine?" he finally asked.

"Well, physically," Hermione muttered. "I can't believe him. I thought he was better than that." There were murmurs around the room.

"I think we all did," Harry said, trying to fill the uneasy silence. "He put on a convincing act, for sure." His chuckle was completely humourless. Ron and Hermione exchanged a worried look.

"I hate to say this, Harry, but I think you need another break from work," Kingsley said.

* * *

><p><strong>Authort's Note 2<strong>: Okay, so I'm kind of evil, but I promise to update at least once over Christmas break. For real, guys. No more of this months of waiting.


	23. Chapter 23

**Author's Note**: Fun story. So, the entire fic has been sitting on my computer since I started posting, and I keep on telling myself that I'm going to edit the chapters. But then I don't. I just don't think about it until it's been months later, and then I'm like, "Well, shit, I should post another chapter." So, this is totally unedited. I'm finally posting, though!

Chapter 23

Harry yanked out a shirt. He was going to go to the club tonight and enjoy himself. A huge part of him doubted this. Nothing held his interest for longer than a minute, and he had spent most of the day balled up, barely able to breathe. It was almost embarrassing how much he had cried, but Harry had set his face in stone for the past few hours. Of course, now Hermione and Ron thought it was good for him to go out with a few of his friends. Luna, Neville, Ginny, Rolf, even George – they were all going to be there.

"Fucking..." He buttoned up the pine green shirt and angrily pinned up the collar necklace. If they wanted Harry, they were going to get him. Of course, he was going to make sure they didn't enjoy it. No one seemed to understand that he just wanted to be left alone. His skinny jeans felt slightly uncomfortable, but he knew he could manage.

Next came the contacts. They slid in easily. Even months later he could do it after only a handful of tries. And then came the final touch. The Harry they saw was going to be nothing like the true Harry. He had never put eyeliner on before. After running through a few retries, he had done a decent job. When he saw himself in the mirror he smirked, trying out his new punk look. His hair even had some product in it. It was messy, but it almost stuck up artfully.

"Perfect." When he left, he made sure to exaggerate his walk. A deep part of his subconscious nagged at him, told him how low this was, attacking people who were only trying to help him, but a greater part took a sadistic pleasure in knowing how they would react. When he finally made it to the club, it was booming, and people all around him flailed about, attempting to dance. He had his hellos with everyone and then strolled up to the bar.

He had already downed three shots of extra-strong Firewhiskey when a voice from behind him made him jump. That Irish accent... "Sweet Merlin..."

"Hey, Seamus." Harry turned around and leaned forward, practicing his new smirk. Seamus' eyes widened, and he scanned Harry up and down, gulping nervously.

"You look different. And I see you tried on that choker I gave you. It's a – err – a good look." He barely seemed to be able to focus, and as he caught the eyeliner, he shifted back slightly. Something about Harry's new bad boy look clearly appealed to him. Harry grabbed his hand, feeling a rush of confidence as he felt how sweaty it was.

"Let's go dance," he said, stumbling slightly. He was far less elegant than he would've liked, but Seamus didn't seem to notice. This was it. He could get back at Draco, show him he didn't give a flying fuck what Draco thought. As Seamus weakly attempted to move to the rhythm, Harry went as well, grinding against Seamus. It didn't take long before a choked-back moan escaped Seamus' lips. Harry could feel him hard against him.

"Ha – Harry, you like Draco, though..." Seamus' voice sounded small. Harry turned around, and cocked an eyebrow, looking at him questioningly.

"Do I?"

"That's what – what everyone said." Seamus gasped as Harry's hand slipped down, cupping him. "Oh God." He thrust into Harry's hand, barely restraining a moan before pulling away. "Please, Harry. Don't do this to me."

"Do what?" Harry leaned forward, pressing their lips together. He rubbed against Seamus, and his hands moved up to Seamus's hair. It was course and completely unsatisfying. It didn't run through his fingers like Draco's did, but it would have to do. One hand slid down and he slowly popped open the buttons of Seamus' trousers. Seamus shivered under his touch, eager and impatient. It made Harry feel drunk with power to see how Seamus bent and submitted under his touch.

"Harry, what the hell, mate!" Ron was standing beside him in an instant, pulling them apart. Seamus looked like a mess already, his clothes dishevelled and the buttons of his pants undone.

"Back off," Harry growled. Seamus had trouble talking. He mumbled something incomprehensible and blushed. Yet Harry winked, eying the burgeoning bulge. Then his face transformed, and he shook Ron off, grabbing Seamus.

"Apparate. Your house. Now, Seamus!" Seamus moaned as Harry nipped at his ear and pulled out his wand. Harry saw his friends running at them and turned to Seamus to tell him to hurry up, when suddenly he felt the familiar feel of being squeezed through a thin tube. Seamus' apartment stood before them, and they tumbled to the door together. Seamus pulled the keys out of his pocket and reached around Harry, fumbling to get it open. "Just use magic," Harry said impatiently, grinding against Seamus

"It's charmed so that you need these keys to op – open..." He faltered and blinked rapidly. Harry backed off for a moment as Seamus unlocked the doors, and then they both went inside, the door slamming shut behind them. The moment it did, Harry had Seamus pressed up against the walls. His tongue darted out, exploring Seamus' mouth. It tasted heavily of alcohol and cinnamon. A part of a whimper broke through his lips as Harry pushed him forward again, and Seamus' head slammed against the walls. Yet it was quickly cut off as Harry's hand dove down Seamus' trousers. Seamus clutched onto Harry's shoulders for support and bit at his lips.

Groans broke through the air as Harry's lips broke from Seamus' and latched onto his neck, following the tendon. Harry pinched the head of his cock lightly, and he felt Seamus tighten under his touch. Seamus bucked into Harry's hand, desperate for friction. Smirking, Harry stroked back the foreskin, his lips moving down the Seamus' collarbone. When he pulled down Seamus' trousers and boxers, Harry kneeled down before him. Gently, he cupped his balls, egged on by Seamus' moans.

"Oh, fuck, Harry, I'm close." Dark blue eyes glanced down at him, and Harry shuddered, looking down. His mouth covered the tip and his tongue darted out, licking up from base to tip. Seamus' hands embedded themselves into Harry's hair, and he lightly pushed him forward. Harry's teeth nicked the head lightly and the other Gryffindor leaned back against the wall. Opening his mouth wide, Harry swallowed it down to the root, and the sounds above him became more and more strung together. A stream of curses was the one warning he got. Seamus shot down his throat, falling limp against the wall.

The bitter salty taste overwhelmed Harry's mouth, and he pulled back, licking a few stray drops off of the tip. A bit of him felt sick as he swallowed it, but then Seamus collapsed beside him, nuzzling against his shoulder. "You're fantastic," he muttered, sounding slightly out of his mind. His pants faded away. Harry was definitely going to be sick. He couldn't enjoy this, yet he knew what Seamus expected next. A mere blowjob wouldn't be enough, would it?

"Fuck me," Harry said, pulling Seamus close and kissing his lips with a bruising force. Seamus pulled back, looking concerned. "Harry, are you sure? Oh, God, I'm a terrible person. You just went through a break-up... I'm so selfish. I wasn't even paying attention." Before Seamus could continue babbling, Harry pulled his closer, shaking his head and lapping at the hollow of his throat, feeling the heartbeat.

"I want this. Please." Harry nudged his knee between Seamus' thighs and pushed down slightly. He gasped, and nodded. It was almost painfully easy to manipulate him. Manipulate – Harry gagged, but luckily Seamus was too busy leading him to the bedroom. The moment they were in the room, he collapsed on the bed, spreading out, staring hungrily at Seamus. He started to reach for his drawers, undoubtedly for lube, and Harry slowly undid his own jeans, sliding them down along with his boxers. He was reaching for the buttons of his shirt when Seamus stopped him.

"No, let me do it." Harry shivered as the course fingers brushed up against his skin, but Seamus must have mistaken it for a gesture of eagerness because his smirk became more defined. "I've dreamt about fucking you for years. Merlin, you're perfect. You're just..." He scanned Harry up and down before kissing him, much too gently for Harry's taste. Words like _manipulation_ danced in front of his eyes again, but then again, so did words like _betrayal_. Harry thrust upward, moving in a gyrating motion against the other Gryffindor. Seamus moaned, and his tongue made a trail down Harry's chest.

"And you're wearing _my_ choker." Seamus hooked a finger under it and yanked Harry forward. "You're mine." Seamus didn't seem to know what he was saying, and it was clear that the odd moment of sobriety had ended quickly. And besides, Seamus had drunk a decent amount of alcohol. Chances were he wouldn't be able to process what was happening anytime soon. "And eyeliner..." He stared into Harry's eyes hungrily.

Reaching for the lube, he stuck out his fingers, ready to slick them. "No!" Harry called out. Seamus looked at him questioningly.

"But Harry, it'll hurt if I don't stretch you out first..." He continued to move, and Harry stopped him.

"Just fuck me." He paused. "Or no." Seamus' face fell a little. "Tie me up first." The frown quickly turned into a look of delight and his eyes darkened.

"Who would've thought the infamous Harry Potter would have a kink like that?" The way he said it reminded Harry of Draco. He moaned, closing his eyes and imagining Draco above him. Draco would mutter some snide remark, unafraid of hurting him. Bold, as always... He opened his eyes and was almost disappointed to see Seamus instead. He fumbled about looking for his wand. When he finally grabbed it, he gave the same needy expression Draco had. "_Incarerous_." Harry felt himself yanked as his wrists were tied to the bedposts. He had been flipped back in the process, and his face pressed against the pillow.

"I can do anything to you," Seamus moaned, his nails raking down Harry's back. It wasn't enough to break the skin, but Harry still arched upward, groaning. It hurt, but it also felt good.

"Fuck me," he begged to Seamus. Seamus seemed only too willing to oblige. He slicked his cock, and Harry tensed as the head pushed at his hole. He could feel heat radiating from it. Seamus thrust in, and Harry barely stifled a cry. It hurt like hell. There was nothing _good_ about it. He felt as if he was being torn in half, ripped from the inside out. His hands flexed as he desperately tried to claw against something, find some release. But they only ended up reaching his palm, and he dug into his own skin, amplifying the pain.

"Oh, God, so tight... Fuck." Seamus had fully sheathed himself and lay panting against Harry. He bit down suddenly on Harry's shoulder, and Harry cried out. He could feel his skin break, and Seamus lapped at the wound.

"I wish I gotten a chance to see you as a vampire," Seamus muttered in his ear. "It's quite a kink of mine." Harry barely suppressed a groan as Seamus began thrusting. There were tears streaming down his eyes. He instead gasped and pushed backwards against Seamus. Pain was good. He could barely think; everything was about feeling. Seamus shifted positions, hitting _that_ spot inside of him, and Harry cried out, arching. "That's what I was aiming for..."

"Harder," Harry choked out. Seamus seemed to be taking his sweet time with it. Each thrust felt agonizingly slow. With a grunt, Seamus listened, and suddenly Harry felt an onslaught of pain and pleasure. His hips jerked as he struggled to keep up with Seamus. Seamus gripped Harry's shoulders, and his fingers curled around, digging into his skin.

"So close. Fuck, I don't know how much longer I can go, Harry," Seamus gasped. One hand slipped down from his shoulder and grabbed Harry's cock. He stroked in time with his thrusts. At one point he stopped, playing over the weeping tip. His hand moved back upward, and he held onto the base. Harry mewled. He had been so close. Seamus shuddered, coming with a moan. He pulled out, his other hand reaching for his wand.

"I want to see you come," he whispered, and Harry felt his bounds around his wrists drop. Harry flipped over and Seamus conjured a cock ring. It was almost painful. Every inch of him shuddered, ready for that release, yet nothing came. Instead, with a smirk, Seamus leaned down between Harry's legs, nipping at the skin on his thighs and moving upward. Harry cried out as Seamus took him whole. The back of his throat rubbed up against the tip of his cock, and Harry struggled, thrusting upward.

"_Pleasepleaseplease_..." Yet Seamus merely pulled back, slicking his fingers and nudging two of them in to the knuckle. With a small push, they slid in further, and he curled them, stroking Harry's prostate. Harry arched into the fingers, shutting his eyes and biting his lip. In his mind he saw Draco above him, scanning him up and down up an insatiable look on his face. The touch that moved to his cock was belonged to Draco.

"Come for me, Harry..." Seamus said. In his mind he heard the Slytherin's silky voice, and as the cock ring disappeared, his entire body lit on fire. The pressure inside him exploded, and he arched upward. Seamus' hand didn't stop moving, and he milked Harry until he was dry. The tingling across his skin slowly dissipated, and Harry lay panting. When he opened his eyes he was almost disappointed not to see Draco above him. "I love you," Seamus muttered, lost in a haze. He leaned forward, placing a light kiss on Harry's lips and collapsing beside him.

"Night," Harry muttered, closing his eyes. Seamus' reply was groggy, and Harry slowly slipped into unconsciousness.

HDHDHDHDHDHD

Harry's head hurt like hell when he woke up. The light that flooded the room hurt his eyes, and he stood up, closing the shades, groaning. As he was doing so, something hit him. These weren't his shades. Harry glanced around, yesterday's events flooding back to him. Harry barely pushed back a cough as he looked down at Seamus. Merlin, his throat was dry.

Oh, God, what had he done? Seamus looked so peaceful and happy simply lying there. Yet when he woke up, that happiness would go away. He had known Seamus had a little crush on him. He had _used_ him. Harry felt sick. Ron's warning suddenly came to mind. He had been so determined to prove to them that he wasn't alright that he had messed up someone's life in the process. Well, maybe not their whole future, but at least the near one. Seamus cared about him. Harry couldn't do the same.

He had done exactly what Draco had done to him. He had let someone attached to him get close, and now he was going to throw him off. Harry began to hyperventilate. He couldn't be here when Seamus woke up. Snatching his clothes off of the ground, he began to get dressed. The thoughts in his head hurt, and it didn't help that the pounding made him feel like someone was trying to rip his head open.

"No, no, no..." Harry whispered to himself, feeling tears burn his eyes. As quickly as he could, he stumbled out of the room and out of the front door. It was barely after he had gotten off that he realised that he had left his wand inside. "Shit." Luckily the door was still unlocked. Slipping back inside, Harry tiptoed to the room. He had barely made it to the bedside stand and picked it up before Seamus spoke behind him.

"One night stand, huh?" Seamus asked, the betrayal in his voice seeping out. Harry jumped, turning around.

"I'm sorry. I don't – I didn't mean to..."

"Funny, because I remember you convincing me when I asked you. I shouldn't have let it get to me the way it did." Seamus blinked rapidly, his fists balling up around the sheets. "It really meant nothing to you, didn't it?"

"No it..." Had it meant anything to him, though? It had been nice – that much was true – but it had also just been... a fuck. "I'm sorry, Seamus."

"What I can't get is why me? Why not any other gay guy? You're out. It's not like you needed to hide it anymore." He looked at Harry, pleading for some sort of reasonable explanation.

"I don't know." There had to be some reasonable explanation, though. He hadn't been trying to hurt him. "I was piss drunk. I wasn't thinking."

"You knew enough. You knew that I _liked_ you. It's not like I hid it. But I knew it was never going to happen. I had gotten over it. At least I thought I did..." His eyes caught onto a bite on Harry's neck, peeking out from under his shirt.

"Seamus, I'm sorry. I'll do anything to –"

"Out." Harry shook his head, tears leaking out of his eyes. How many times had he cried in the past twenty-four hours?

"I'm –"

"Out! Get out!" Seamus' voice broke as it rose in octaves. He threw a pillow at Harry and collapsed, sobbing into the sheets. "Go away!" Harry barely knew what to do. Seamus' voice was hoarse when he yelled. Yet he knew he couldn't stay here. Seamus began screeching, throwing curses at him. Harry ran out of the room, the front door slamming shut behind him. He Apparated to his flat, running inside and collapsing against the wall. He hurt all over. His heart felt like it had shattered into little glass pieces that had lodged into him. Gasping, he put his head into his hands and sobbed.

HDHDHDHDHDHD

Everyone was still angry at him. Ron and Hermione sometimes were short-tempered with him even. It had taken them long enough to get over what had happened with Seamus. And Seamus refused to read his letters of apology or speak to him face-to-face. Harry didn't know exactly what to do. He was falling apart. Kingsley wasn't even sure whether he should let him back to his job. He simply had to get over Draco. Harry had vowed to do that, but it was easier said than done. Every bit of him ached every time he saw a picture of Draco. Aiden and he were a hot couple, and magazines liked to cover them. All of them still asked why he had broken up with Harry. At least he had stopped answering the question.

Still, Harry was slowly getting better. It was getting close to a year since Draco had left Azkaban. Enough time had passed. It was hard to keep from picking at the scabs that had formed since, but Harry resisted. Still, the photographs sometimes were enough to let him bleed.

Luna, on the other hand, had forgiven him a while ago. He was hanging around with her a surprising amount. She always seemed to know exactly what was going on. There'd be moments where Harry could barely believe he was talking to Luna, but then she'd make a comment about a newly discovered, unknown creature, and all was cleared up. Then again, Luna had always helped him. She had been there for him after Sirius and at the end of the battle.

With her help he was getting better. He had survived so much death and despair. If he couldn't handle this, then something was wrong with him. Of course, he wasn't completely ready to put it behind him, but he was getting there.


	24. Chapter 24

**Author's Note**: Are you proud of me? I actually didn't wait six months before uploading another chapter. There's only one more chapter left after this one.

Chapter 24

Harry stirred his coffee and stared at the Daily Prophet. Nothing exciting was really going on around London, it seemed. Stretching, he felt his back crack and sighed. He looked at the croissant on his plate and bit in, jelly flowing out and coating his fingers. He licked it off before settling back in his chair and staring blankly ahead of him. He was going to start working again next week. Kingsley said that he was willing to give him one final chance. After all, the whole mess hadn't started because Harry had _wanted_ to become a vampire; it simply hadn't been his fault.

Of course, the thought was frightening. He hadn't worked in so long. He had spent most of his free time working at a Quidditch shop that had hired him. A good portion of the job was trying out new models of brooms. Harry loved the feeling of soaring through the air. It reminded him of Hogwarts – mostly of happier times. Sometimes, however, it reminded him of Draco. Harry winced, taking another bite out of the flaky pastry.

A year and two months. Or, really, it had been a year two months and eleven days. He was still keeping track. But the subject wasn't as touchy as it had been a mere few months ago. It still hurt and sometimes, when he dreamt, Draco would still swim in front of his eyes, smiling at him like he used to, but he was able to handle it now. It didn't make him go insane. He hadn't cried about it in over three months. Still, it was embarrassing that he had let him affect him for that long.

That was love.

At least, if nothing else, Seamus had finally forgiven him. It had taken a few months for him to come around, but when he did, Seamus had been able to hang out around him with minimal awkwardness. That was a step forward. They weren't quite as close as they used to be, and Harry wouldn't be surprised if that was a bridge that could never be gapped. Still, at times, Harry swore he saw Seamus give him wanting looks, but he never said anything. They were talking and friends; that was more than he could ask for after what had happened.

Ron and Hermione had let go as well. They had both admitted that they had freaked out. Harry had never been like that. Sure, there were moments of weakness, but he had always been able to pull through, to sacrifice. But for months at a time he had locked himself up. "We wanted to help you, but you shut us out," Hermione had said. "And then you go off with Seamus, hurting your friends…" That had stung. How badly had he hurt them? But he had accepted it; he had to take responsibility.

So, everything was basically back to normal, or it would be once he was back working as an Auror. He had heard Roberts had been instituted head of the department in the meantime, though. Apparently he had gone "all Sherlock Holmes" on a case. At least that was how Ron had explained it to him. Hermione had introduced him to the show, and Ron had been overjoyed by it. "I don't know how half these wizards live their lives without the telly," he had commented, ignoring Hermione as she rolled her eyes.

Harry chuckled. It was strange that so much time had passed and yet he was back to stage one. Emotionally, no, but other than the fact that he was approaching twenty-two, he had the same life he'd had just over a year ago. Still, so much had happened. Lucius Malfoy now was rotting away in jail, soul sucked out of him. Harry shuddered. That kind of a punishment was beyond imagination. Yet if anyone deserved it, it was Lucius Malfoy.

Vampires had even begun re-integration into society. A handful of them chose to stay as they were, but a majority found solace in their human forms. Hermione's potion had become a success, and Ron felt immensely pleased by the amounts of money that had poured in. After their help in the war, the Weasleys had gotten money, and George had gained a fair bit as well, but they still weren't by any means rich. Yet after that, it was impossible not to be. Hermione still said she felt bad charging for it.

"I mean, what if we had charged House Elves for freedom? It's their given right." Same old Hermione from Hogwarts…

Harry finished his croissant and placed a tip on the table. However, he didn't quite feel like getting up yet. He didn't have to get to work for another hour. They wanted him to test out the newest model of a Firebolt today. It was exciting. He occasionally took his own Firebolt out for a ride, but he hadn't ridden one other than that. If it was nice enough, he was thinking of buying one. Riding still served as the same kind of relief. His worries dropped away with every dip and dive. It cleared his mind.

He probably should get up soon, though. He could open the shop and get it ready early. He knew that Sam liked when he did that. Sam was the person who owned the shop, and she was part of the Tutshill Tornados. She was incredibly bubbly, and Harry liked her quite a lot. They got along quite well, and she kept him on edge. They occasionally raced. She played Keeper, though and wasn't the fastest. Still, she was professional and knew a handful of manoeuvres that Harry didn't know. She had been a big part on helping him move on.

They had discussed Draco to the point that she was probably sick of him. Of course, she was far too nice to put it that way, but Harry was nearly certain that she was. He had babbled like a lovesick schoolboy. She had made a point to tease him about this. Still, she was sweet and the teasing was always friendly. She could gage him better than anyone else and always seemed to know when he did and didn't want to talk about stuff. Stuff being Draco. He sighed. That damn blond…

Someone scooted over, grabbing the chair opposite of Harry. "Can I…?" He began to pull at it, and Harry stared sullenly down at his coffee mug. Even the voice sounded like Draco. He waved his hand, still glaring at the table. And yet the person didn't take the chair and walk away. That person slid down into it, sitting across from him. Harry looked up to see none other than Draco Malfoy sitting across from him. His throat dried up and he shook his head. Not after this long – it couldn't be Draco.

"I…" He shook his head again, unsure what to say.

"Hello, Harry." Harry nodded in response, his movement jerky.

"How did you find me?" Of all the questions to ask, that was the least important. What mattered was why he was here? What did he want?

"Well, I was told I could find you here. L_a Douceur de France_, huh? The sweetness of France if I'm not mistaken…" Harry barely knew what to say. Draco was talking to him as if this was completely normal.

"I wouldn't know. I never knew French." He paused, and Draco waited expectantly. "What are you doing here, Malfoy?"

"Back to Malfoy, is it?" Draco sounded hurt, and Harry almost took back what he said. Yet he wasn't the one who needed to apologise. Even if he wanted to... "Not that I blame you. After what I did to you, it's only understandable."

"Understandable? I don't think you realise how fucked up –" He wasn't going to have this conversation. Draco just shouldn't have affected him as much as he did after all this time. As he looked into those blue eyes, every feeling that he had managed to suppress flooded back in. He loved Draco and hated him at the same time. Every inch of him ached to hear Draco say that he loved him again, and yet he knew that if that happened, he'd be gone again.

"I'm sorry. I know there's no way I can make it up to you."

"So leave." Harry stared intently at the table, but melted when Draco's hand touched his chin. With a gentle nudge, Draco managed to put Harry back at eye level, and he gave a small, scared smile.

"But I'm going to do everything I can to show you that I'm sorry. I – I screwed up," Draco looked genuinely sorry, and, somehow, that only made it worse.

"So, what about Aiden, huh?" Harry spat, clenching his fists. As he quivered, he noticed a few people around them looking at their table.

"Oh, you saw that..."

"That whole world saw that! And the whole world saw your interviews. 'Oh, it was a mutual break-up, but Aiden makes me happy because he _cares_ about me.'" Harry was screaming at this point, and the entire cafe was looking at him. Shoving the chair, he stormed out, but Draco chased him. "Why can't you leave me alone? You did a fantastic job for the past –"

"Year two months and eleven days?" The fact that he knew... Harry clenched his eyes shut and then continued walking.

"I can't do this. You're just going to leave me again." He felt his eyes burn. No, he wasn't going to cry. He wasn't going to! But then they began to spill over. "Shite," he mumbled to himself, hastily wiping them away.

"I won't. Harry, I'll do anything. No, do the truth spell. I can prove to you..."

"Prove what to me – that you left me with a good reason? Because there's no good reason for ruining my life."

"I didn't mean to..." Harry turned around only to see Draco with tears in his eyes. Draco looked hopeless. "Look." Pulling out his wand, he pointed it at his head. Before Harry could figure out what he was going to do, he muttered the words to the truth spell. "De veritate."

"Please don't..." Harry collapsed to his knees, begging Draco to stop. Begging him not to say words that would make him hurt all over again. Begging him not to send him back into that hell.

"I freaked out. I still cared for you and I didn't know what to do. I felt like it was a disgrace to William..." His hand reached out for Harry, but Harry pulled away. Why now? Why couldn't Draco tried bringing this up a year ago?

"Please..." Yet Draco ignored him.

"So I got together with Aiden thinking that if I could find someone else I could get you out of my mind. But I couldn't. It took me a year before I'd admit it, but I love you Harry. I don't expect you to understand that, but I need your forgiveness."

"Why did you stay with Aiden all this time, then?" Harry asked, his voice hoarse. "Did you dump him? Is that why you're with me?"

"No, he dumped me." Harry threw his hands up and went to get away, but Draco grasped his arm. "He said that he couldn't be with me if I was in love with someone else. I've been trying to build up the courage to talk to you for three months now."

"You could've come before I fucked Seamus," Harry said, shaking his head. "No, I'm not discussing this with you," he quickly added, trembling.

"Seamus? Are you two –"

"No. He's had feeling towards me for a while now. And I freaked out because no one loved me." He had to shut his mouth, but the words were just gushing out. And those endless blue eyes looked at him with nothing but sympathy and _love_. But not now... He was supposed to be getting over him. But everything inside of him crumbled and fled. All he wanted to do was wrap his arms around Draco and tell him not to let him go.

_Never let me go. Stay. Love me._

"You freaked out?"

"I used him. You should know how that goes. You're the expert." Draco flinched at those words.

"I didn't mean to."

"Yeah, well, you did." He began to walk away, but Draco grabbed him, pulling him close. His eyes looked incredibly red and puffy up close, and just from his ragged breathing, Harry could smell him. All he wanted to do was kiss him. But he couldn't. He had to resist.

"You don't have to forgive me now. I don't expect that. I know what I did was horrible, but please don't shut me out."

"Like you did," Harry prompted again. Draco let go, stumbling backwards.

"This was a mistake. I – Never mind." Harry watched as Draco walked away and Apparated. Gone. Out of his life again. Harry barely made it into the shop before he broke down sobbing. Sam had just come in, and immediately ran to him.

"Harry, what happened?" She was immediately at his side, her hand resting on his shoulder.

"It's Draco. He came to see me in the cafe. I thought I had started getting over him, but then he was there. And he kept on saying that he loved me. I didn't know what to do..." Harry broke down, and Sam pulled him into a tight hug.

"Bastard. If I ever see him, he won't know what hit him. He'll never be able to have children." She paused, realising what she had said and quickly added, "Well, not that he'd really be able to have children otherwise..." A chuckle broke through Harry's sobs. At least Sam seemed to know what to say to cheer him up. "But you know he was lying, right?" She smiled, and Harry shook his head.

"Truth spell," he said morosely. "I don't know what I'm going to do. He just came out of nowhere."

"Look, let's go fly. Maybe it'll help you take your mind off of things."

HDHDHDHDHDHD

It had been two and a half months since Draco had popped by. Harry kept a part-time job at the Quidditch shop. The job had been too nice to drop. Sam was busy with her team, in any case, and she needed his help taking care of the shop. He had managed to settle down again. Draco's words were like a broken record in his head, but he had at least gotten used to them.

Still, he wasn't sure what to do. His trashcan was overflowing with never-sent letters to Draco. He had wanted to say he forgave him, but he hadn't been able to muster the courage. And did he really forgive Draco? Hermione told him that perhaps it was wise to pretend like it had never happened, but they had both known that was an unrealistic expectation. He couldn't just wipe Draco from his mind. If he could've, this mess would have been over ages ago.

Harry stared down at his most recent letter. It covered the whole front of a scroll of parchment. A lot of it was him describing how the past year and a half had passed for him. But he knew that if Draco honestly was looking for his forgiveness, then he had to know everything and he had to accept it.

Harry was about to crumple it as well when Fred hooted softly from behind him. Harry turned around to see the owl glaring at him. Maybe this was some sort of sign. Perhaps he was supposed to send it to Draco. He let Fred out of his cage and attached the scroll to his leg. "Take it to Draco. And give him a good peck or two for me." Harry laughed trying to picture Draco's reaction and opened the window.

"Tempus." It was almost two in the morning. That meant it was about time to go to bed. Harry woke up to the irritating, persistent tapping on his window. Groggily he pushed open the window, and Fred flew in, a letter attached to his leg.

_Harry,_

_I'm sorry. I never meant_

_to hurt you. But by now I probably sound_

_repetitive. It's just that I never imagined I would hurt you_

_that much. I just was afraid what would happen. I'm sure you're not too _

_keen in finding out why I treated you like I did, but I don't know how else what to_

_tell you. The fact that you can forgive me... It's more than I ever could have asked. I gave up hope a _

_while ago. If you wouldn't mind, could we possibly meet up? I understand if you_

_don't want to or if you're not ready yet, but you're a fantastic human_

_being and it would mean the world to me if we could just_

_be friends. Just tell me a time and a place _

_if you want to. Until then._

_Love,_

_Draco_

_P.S. Something is wrong with your owl. He practically attacked me._

Harry laughed and looked over at Fred. "Good job." Fred ruffled his feathers in response. Yes, he did want to meet up with Draco. Was it a good idea? Probably not. Was he going to do it? Probably. Now he just had to choose a time and place...

HDHDHDHDHDHD

"He's going to be here soon," Harry said, fingers playing nervously over the handle of his new Firebolt. The model had run smoothly and Harry was one of the first ones to buy it.

"I don't know whether this is a good idea. Draco knows how to play you. Remind me again why you're doing this?"

"We're just going to be friends." Harry had explained this to Sam twenty times already, but she just gave him a sceptical look every time. "And we're going to be flying anyway."

"Really, I thought the broomsticks were just an added touch. And lending you the Quidditch pitch – just a nice background setting. Look, I'm just saying that you shouldn't get your hopes up. And be more wary and, oh, Harry, I just don't want you to get hurt!" She threw her arms around him, and Harry laughed, squeezing her tightly.

"I can handle myself. I promise. Let's just see how this goes." She nodded and leaned her head on his shoulders.

"Something you didn't tell me?" Harry pulled back to see Draco chuckling nervously and looking at the two of them.


	25. Chapter 25

**Author's Note**: Last chapter! It's really the end! I finally remembered to update at a normal time. Well, better late then never. Err, but it's still unedited. I can't fix all my faults.

Chapter 25

"Err, Draco, this is Sam. Sam, Draco."

"I've heard a lot about you," Sam said, extending her hand.

"I hope it's all been go– Or, well, no, that's stupid," Draco blushed and shook her hand. "Pleasure to meet you." Sam's lips twitched upward slightly.

"Try anything funny and I'll Incendio your balls. Got that?" She grinned as Draco gaped at her. "Right, then. Have fun, Harry!" With that she sauntered off.

"She seems...lovely," Draco muttered.

"She is. Hm, a Firebolt. Old model though." He flashed his new one and winked at Draco. _No, don't wink. It looks flirtatious_, Harry reprimanded himself.

"How did you get that?" Draco leaned forward, staring lustfully at the new broom.

"I work in a Quidditch shop. Since I got to try out the new model, they let me buy it as well. First one in the world." He beamed and threw his legs over it. "Ready to go for a ride?" Draco nodded, also getting onto his.

"Cheater."

"I'd like to think of it more as 'playing under my rules.'" With that they took off. Sam said she was going to release a snitch, and sure enough, at the edge of the field, Harry saw her opening a crate. Harry leaned and his broom shot forward. Draco trailed behind him, cheering.

"It's been so long since I've gotten a chance to fly," the blond shouted. Harry slowed down a little and Draco went beside them. Their brooms moved forward in synchronized motion.

"It's relaxing though."

"More relaxing now that I know that I won't get killed by my friends if I lose another game to you." He smiled and leaned over, almost grazing against Harry. Harry shuddered, pulling back slightly.

"Hmm, I always found flying to be fun." He shot forward again, and Draco made a frustrated sound. Climbing higher, he circled the pitch in search of the Snitch. It had been so long since he had last played. Flying happened on a regular basis, but it felt weird to be trying to actually find something. A little golden flutter shone in his peripherals, and Harry looked over to see the Snitch fluttering behind Draco. He chuckled as the blond turned his head from side to side. He was adorable when he was oblivious.

_Not adorable..._

Shaking his head, he waited for the ball to fly away. He didn't want the game to be over too soon. Instead he pulled up next to Draco, playfully bumping into him. The blond teetered slightly before reciprocating the action. Harry's skin tingled and he pulled away, eying the Snitch again. Draco spied it too this time and shot forward before Harry could. They both went toward it, and Harry growled as Draco's fingers grazed against it. Yet his broom was faster. He caught up and moved faster than Draco, his fingers wrapping around the walnut-sized ball.

"Bastard," he heard Draco mutter beside him. Harry landed and jumped off of his broom, flaunting his victory. Draco jumped off as well, tackling Harry to the ground. "Always end up winning in the end, don't you?" Draco asked, leaning forward. He was ridiculously close. Harry could feel him stretched out on top of him. _Kiss him. No, don't!_

Harry trembled as Draco continued staring straight into him. Draco pried the Snitch from his grip, and his legs shifted so that he was straddling him. A slight smirk fell on his lips. But Harry had to get out. He could already feel his cock twitching. This was dangerous. If he didn't get out of this mess soon, he'd end up kissing Draco...or worse. They were just friends. Merlin, how he wanted to kiss him...

Harry pushed Draco's chest, feeling a shock as he touched the blond. He wrestled on top of Draco and slid off. For a moment he could have sworn that Draco looked disappointed.

"Let's go eat," Harry said. At least then they'd talk. Then Draco would have no reason to tackle him to the ground.

"Sounds good." Draco shrugged and pulled himself up. He had grass stains on his shirt, but he didn't seem to notice. He just kept on staring at Harry. It was a bit unnerving. "Any place in particular..."

"Well, there's a small restaurant. It's Thai, and it's not very crowded, but I don't know if you like..." He shrugged, glancing away.

"I love Thai. That sounds lovely. But perhaps we should take a shower first..." He pulled a piece of grass out of Harry's hair, and Harry tensed. He was too close again. Draco stayed there a moment too long, and Harry looked down, blushing.

"Good idea. Over there. Yeah." Harry motioned and immediately scampered off. How the hell was he getting an erection? If Draco didn't stop it, he'd be in trouble. Yet the flirting was meaningless, right?

They entered the showers silently, and Harry turned the water all the way up. Where it hit his skin, it turned red. It was almost scalding hot. But the pain felt good. It helped him think. This wasn't what he wanted, right? Or maybe it was. It was what he had wanted for over a year, but he had promised this wasn't going to happen. Hermione had warned him that Draco might go for him again.

Harry suddenly pictured Draco lying on top of him again, and barely bit back a moan. He could hear Draco in the stall next to him, water running as well. What would the blond say if he suddenly burst out groaning? Still, Harry's hand slipped down. He grabbed his cock and pulled back the foreskin, biting down on his lip. He couldn't let Draco hear him.

His hand moved up and down, and he found his hips thrusting forward. One had reached over, clutching the bathroom wall for support. He felt the pressure build up, and his hand moved faster, stroking his shaft, desperately aiming for that moment of release. In his mind he saw Draco hovering above him. But the scene didn't end there, Draco reached down, kissing him, his hand slipping inside of Harry's pants. The water began to get cold and he heard Draco turn his off, but he continued shamelessly. It was now Draco working on him, edging him on. His balls tightened, and he gasped as he convulsed. His body hit a moment of pure pleasure. He shot out against the wall, and his body relaxed. He let the water run over the wall and wash it away.

Quickly he put some shampoo in his hair and spread it about. The water was frigid, and Harry shivered, his teeth chattering. The soap got in his eyes and he yelped, jumping backwards and rubbing them. As he turned off the water, he shuddered, wrapping a towel around his waist and going out of the stall.

Draco was standing and waiting, already fully dressed. "Merlin you take ages getting ready. I don't remember you taking this –" He cut off, clearly afraid he had overstepped some boundary. "Sam came in with a spare set of clothes. He motioned to the pile on the benches.

"Thanks." Harry stepped forward and grabbed the boxers. He began to put them on when the towel slid to the ground. Out of his peripherals he could see Draco tense. Oh, God... Harry blushed and quickly pulled the boxers the rest of the way up.

"Sorry," he muttered, turning away to hide his face.

"I –It's fine." Draco's voice sounded tense. Harry turned around to see Draco eying him. A part of him was pleased. But it was wrong. "Scar." Draco motioned to his neck. "I did that, didn't I?"

"The day you got out of Azkaban," Harry replied, slipping his shirt over and hiding it. Draco looked like he was going to say something else, but must have thought better of it.

"So, how about that Thai food." Harry nodded and they walked outside. It was beginning to get dark. Harry stretched out a hand and Draco took it. With a crack they Apparated into a side alley.

"Right, now..." Harry walked inside and smiled. He felt comfortable here at least. The chef even knew him by name. Heng, one of the waitresses walked up, grinning.

"Hello Mr. Potter! Table for two?" she asked cheerily, nodding at Draco.

"Yes, please." She smiled and began to lead them to a table in the back. "So, how are you, Heng?"

"Good. There have been more customers recently. Maybe people have seen you here. If the infamous Harry Potter likes it, must mean it's good, right?" As she winked, Harry blushed.

"Well, it is good."

"Glad you think so. Here you go." She handed them each a menu and walked off.

"Come here often, then?" Draco asked, glancing down the menu.

"Yeah." There were silent for a moment. "I already know what I'm getting, so whenever you're ready..."

"I know too." He smiled and put down the menu. A waiter came immediately – one Harry didn't know.

"I'll have Pad Thai," Harry said, handing back the menu.

"Massaman curry, please," Draco said, smiling. The waiter nodded and went away. "So, what have you been up to?"

"Nothing much. I mean, my jobs are finally back to normal."

"Jobs? You work two jobs? Isn't one already exhausting enough."

"I mean, it's hard, but it gets my mind off of –" He cut off, and quickly added, "It keeps them off of other things. But they're nice. You know, the Quidditch shop and being and Auror. Kingsley is laying me on lighter cases since all this mess, though. I mean, it was all downhill for a while, what with you and then Nathanial." Draco glanced down, clearly embarrassed. Harry had felt rather blunt. But it had kind of just come out. And Draco knew that he had been pulled under a blanket of depression for a year.

"Who's Nathanial?" he finally asked.

"He was an Auror. He went in on the raid to kill Dorian. He actually killed Sybil. But..." Harry trailed off. Images of Nathanial, blood spurting from his mouth, neck snapped flashed in his mind, and he grabbed the water, gulping it down.

"Dorian killed him." Harry nodded.

"I had to watch."

"I know what it's like." Harry nodded. William – how could he forget?

"Harry, I've been trying to say this for a while, and please don't get mad. I know it was horrible and insensitive of me, but I never meant for you to be the one to get hurt. I wasn't thinking about you. If I had known I would've done something..." Harry sighed. So they were getting to this topic sooner than he expected.

"I know. I guess I know." He looked down at his fork and spun it. "But that doesn't make it all better. You have to understand that. I almost got fired. And I almost died."

"Almost died?"

"Did I not mention that in the letter?" He had written and re-written it so many times he couldn't even keep track of what was in which copy.

"You almost died!" Draco sounded furious and concerned all at the same time.

"I splinched." Confusion flickered across his face.

"What does that have to do with me?"

"It was right after I read your article about Aiden. I was freaking out, and I tried to Apparate. I'm lucky Hermione tried to come visit me when she did. Another five or ten minutes, the Healer said, and I would've been dead." Harry shuddered. How many times had he face death by now?

"I'm sorry." His voice cracked. "I seem to be using that word a lot." For a few minutes they sat there in silence. Harry didn't know what to say. Draco's hand seemed to inch closer and closer, however. Every time Harry looked at the table, it seemed to be several centimetres from where it had been before.

"Look, Draco, I –" I love you. What was there to say?

"Pad Thai and Massaman curry," the waiter said, slipping the plates on the table. Draco's hand pulled back, and a light pink tinge came over his face.

"Thank you," they both muttered, looking anywhere but at each other. This was silly; they were acting like little schoolchildren. Yet he didn't have the courage to do anything else now.

"What were you going to say?" Draco asked as the waiter walked off.

"Nothing. Err, that looks good." _Smooth_. He gave a small groan at his lack of capabilities when it came to talking to Draco. Smiling nervously at Draco, he dug into his Pad Thai. Draco cocked one eyebrow and grinned.

"It is actually quite delicious." They ate in near-silence. "So, Sam," Draco finally asked as they waited for desert.

"She's nice. I mean, she's helped me a lot, and there's the whole mutual love for Quidditch. That helps."

"I'm sure." The waiter came, setting down one bowl of green tea ice cream. Harry picked up his spoon and waited for Draco to do the same. The blond took one scoop, lifting the desert up to his lips and licking it slowly. Harry felt his face heat up. Draco stared innocently at him, though. "And you're fine again with Kingsley, I gathered from your letter." His tongue ran over his lips, catching a stray bead of the melted ice cream. Harry could barely look away and merely nodded in response to Draco's question. As Draco smirked, Harry glanced down at his spoon only to see the ice cream melting over and dribbling on his lap.

"Oh, shite. Yeah, I mean, yeah. Good. Very good. It's turned me on – I mean – turned out really well!" Oh, God... He was hopeless. Draco laughed.

"Relax, Harry. I'll stop. I shouldn't do that. We're just going to be friends, right?" Harry nodded, staring intently at the new stain on his pants and rubbing at it with his napkin. Draco reached over, touching his arm gently. "I promise. I'll stop." He looked up to see Draco's face melted into a soft smile.

"Right then."

By the time they started walking outside, it was already getting late. The streets were filled with the nightlife, though, and they strolled. Harry tilted over, leaning slightly over Draco. The blond leaned over slightly and the tops of their hands swept against each other. He sighed before pulling away.

"So, let's talk about you," Harry said. "Aiden. How was that?"

"Maybe we shouldn't –"

"No, I want to know." He really did. At least a part of him truly wanted to know. The other half wanted to pretend it had never happened – that none of it had ever happened. But that wasn't really an option. He might as well hear it. It would probably happen at some point. And if Draco ever dated again, he'd have to get used to the blond talking about being with someone else. _But that's fine. We're just friends_.

"Well, what do you want me to say? It was nice. I mean, it wasn't love, at least not to me, but it was something. But, yes, he fell in love with me." Harry blinked, unsure what exactly to say to that.

"It's hard not to once you get to know you," he muttered before he could help himself. "I mean, not that I'm coming on to you." Draco paused, leaning against the railing and stared down at the Thames. The London Eye glowed in the distance.

"No, it's fine. It was hard though. I don't want to sound like a prick. I know you had it worse than me, but it was. I had constant nightmares, and I was afraid. It didn't help when Mum disinherited me."

"She did what!"

"She knew about my father. But family is supposed to trump everything else." Draco scoffed, although Harry could tell it stung. "She told me that I had abandoned them."

"But you saved hundreds, if not thousands of lives! How can she overlook that?"

"She loved my father. I think it's as simple as that." Draco sighed, continuing to stare intently into the Thames. "I mean, that's really all that's new with me."

Harry put his hand on Draco's back. _It's a touch of comfort_. Of course, the last few times Draco had needed comfort, it had turned into something more than just a hand on the back. Draco tensed under him, but he eventually turned, burying his head into Harry's chest. The move was so sudden. Harry felt his skin tickle, but his hands automatically wrapped around Draco. He held him tightly against him, every part of him on fire. His head nestled against Draco's shoulder. Merlin, he had forgotten how wonderful it felt to hold him.

Draco's hand slipped around his waist as well, and the blond shuddered underneath him. "I've missed you, Harry. I've missed talking to you and –" What was he going to say? Fucking him? Harry knew it was too soon to hold Draco without expecting something to happen. Reluctantly he pushed back.

"I'm sorry." Draco looked at him with saddened eyes. "And I know. I' missed you too. Sometimes I thought I wouldn't be able to go on. The whole world fell away. I didn't understand why no one else understood how I felt – why they didn't just kneel over sobbing. Every time I got up and forced myself to keep on going, it was an accomplishment. I thought that if I tried to kill myself that you would come and stop me."

"Harry I –"

"You're sorry, I know. But I wasn't just sad. I thought I was going to rip out my heart and my eyes. Sometimes it just hurt to breathe. I don't know how I got through it, but I can't go through it again. I don't know whether I can let you back in."

"I wasn't going to –"

"But I would have." Draco nodded, tears swimming in his eyes. With a careful effort the blond pushed them back.

"I understand. Maybe we should just call it a night... We kind of need to go back to the pitch to grab our clothes. At least I do..." Harry nodded. They walked into an alley and their fingers intertwined. Harry pulled out his wand and his breath was knocked out of him as the Apparated.

The Quidditch pitch was lit up. Harry could see Sam flying somewhere up above, cutting across in zigzag patterns. She probably was waiting for Draco to leave to ask Harry how it had gone. _Always the thoughtful one..._ Of course, Ron and Hermione would be waiting as well. Not to mention Luna and Ginny. He felt his heart warm. He was lucky to have such amazing friends. No one deserved that much.

"You're smiling," Draco said, grinning back at him. Harry laughed.

"I was just thinking of my friends," he said, although he immediately regretted it. The smile fell off of Draco's face.

"Oh. I just –" He shook his head. "Never mind." Draco had thought he was thinking of them.

"But tonight was lovely. It was a good idea to become friends again."

"You weren't the only one." Draco's head shot up, and he gave Harry a strange look as if begging for him to understand something.

"What?"

"I know how it hurt." Harry shook his head. Draco was as persistent and stubborn as always. He couldn't help but love him for it. "I know I was the one who messed up, but that doesn't mean that I wasn't in pain. I have no right to complain, but I know what you felt. Everything seemed to crumple into ashes. My life was grey and dull and – Everything was lifeless, and sometimes I'd wake up next to Aiden sobbing, my stomach clenching, wishing it could just be you. I thought it would never stop."

Harry felt a nervous flutter as they walked into the shower room. Their old clothes were still strewn on the benches, now wrinkled. Harry glanced at them. That had only been hours ago, hadn't it? Yet it seemed likes ages now. It had only lasted one day. They were friends.

"But Draco..." His protest sounded meek even in his own ears.

"I know why you don't trust me, but if we get together, we can be brilliant. I'm not promising that we can last forever, but while it do, it'll be fucking amazing. I don't know whether I can be just friends with you because every time I look at you I can only think of how much it hurts when you're not touching me..." He trailed off, his voice tightening. Draco's chest rose and fell rapidly as if he had run out of breath, and he his fists clenched.

"Fuck it." Harry rushed forward, pressing their lips together. The world finally seemed _right_. And Draco tasted fucking amazing. Behind a hint of green tea, his mouth had the same vanilla taste Harry had longed for all year long. He sucked on Draco's lips and explored every crevice of his mouth, afraid something had somehow changed. But it was like following a map he had memorised. Every curve and dip was there, and when Draco's tongue wrestled with his, Harry pulled back.

His fingers immediately reached toward that silky hair, and when his fingers ran through it, he felt soothed. Biting Draco's lip, Harry moaned as blood seeped into his mouth. Draco growled, pushing him back and pressing him against the wall. The blond nudged a knee between his thighs pressing it against the bulge in Harry's pants. A moan broke through the kiss as pleasure shot up through him.

"Mine," Harry growled as Draco pulled back. The blond mewled and his tongue traced down Harry's neck.

"God, I've waited ages to hear you say that. Every night..." Draco pressed with his knee again and Harry arched into the touch. They rubbed against each other, their hands moving up and down, desperate to touch everything again. His hands cupped Draco's face and he tilted his head up, crashing their lips together again. Draco's blood tasted different now that he wasn't a vampire, but it still managed to tingle against his lips and on his tongue. Draco pulled back, his chin dribbling with red. Harry leaned over and licked it, staring into Draco's eyes – his fucking perfect eyes. They were clouded over with lust and need and want and – oh God – everything.

Harry's hips pressed forward, and he ground against Draco. He felt shots of pleasure shoot up him, and he grabbed Draco's shoulders. The blond reached over, tugging at Harry's shirt. Getting his drift, Harry lifted his arms up, and Draco began yanking at the cloth again. It got stuck around his head and the both of them nervously giggled before getting it off. Harry looked at Draco's button-down. He could see the perfectly outline of his body; the shirt was gorgeous on him. But it would be perfect on the floor. Harry yanked it off, relishing in the sound of the fabric shredding.

Every part of him _ached_ as Draco's hands slid down his chest, fingers lingering against the sensitive nubs. "Fuck," Draco growled, and his tongue dipped down, reaching Harry's defined collar bone – the dives and hollows, like little dimples. His teeth grazed against the skin, and Harry moaned, meekly guiding Draco as his fingers wound around the blond hair.

Yet Draco took his time. Harry felt like he was on fire. Every bit of him hurt. He just wanted Draco to fuck him. And he could barely stand. The wall completely supported him. Every bit of him quivered as his hips jerked. He desperately needed Draco's touch. As if hearing his thoughts, Draco's hand worked at the zipper of his trousers.

"Patience, love," Draco growled, smirking. As Harry's pants and boxers fell, he let out a groan. His cock sprung free and Draco only marvelled for a second before kneeling down. Licking Harry's navel, he swirled his tongue teasingly. Gently he bit the sensitive skin, reaching lower and lower. His tongue darted out, licking Harry's inner thighs. He seemed to hit everywhere except for where Harry wanted most. His entire body shook, and he stayed nervous with anticipation.

As Harry jerked his hips, Draco pressed him back against the wall, holding him still. With one swift motion, he took Harry into his mouth, the back of this throat tightening against the head. Harry looked down to see ice blue eyes staring back up at him, clouded over with lust. Draco's cheeks hollowed out and Harry groaned. As he reached down to guide the blond, he felt something catch his wrists. Suddenly they were bound together.

"Draco, wh –" Before he could finish the thought, a gag accompanied it. The blond pulled back, smirking.

"I've wanted to fuck you so much." His hands roamed Harry's chest and his eyes trailed down his neck. Harry moaned, feeling the cloth catch his words. Draco leaned forward, kissing him through the gag. He placed a trail of them down Harry's neck and shoulder before pulling back. "Turn around." Harry moved, pressing his face against the cold walls and moaning.

Draco muttered something and Harry felt something slick inside of him. A hand slowly cupped his arse and dragged down the crack. Pushing lightly, he spread Harry's legs, one finger touching the skin around the sensitive hole. Harry whimpered into the gag, his skin prickling. His cock _ached_ and every centimetre of him simply needed to be touched and explored. Draco probed in, and Harry arched into the touch, his head digging into the uneven surface of the wall ahead of him. _Fuckfuckfuck_.

Another finger was added, and Harry whimpered, thrusting backward. There was pain but he wanted it so badly. And when Draco hit _that spot_ inside of him, he lit up, his legs suddenly feeling like jelly. But Draco pulled his fingers out. Before Harry could complain, he felt something much larger press against him. Draco slowly slipped in, letting out a guttural moan. "Just as tight as I remember..." he panted. Harry shuddered, getting used to the feeling of being filled. He hadn't had it in months. It hurt like hell. His hands balled up as he whimpered again.

Suddenly the gag released as did his hands. Harry sputtered, but his eyes remained clenched shut. He clenched around Draco, who let out another wanton sound. As if sensing his, though, Draco's hands massaged Harry's back, and he placed feathery kisses, making a careful trail up his spine, then down his shoulder blades. "Relax, love." Harry nodded, and Draco shifted angle, pulling out and thrusting in again. He hit that spot and Harry moaned, pressing backward, making Draco drive deeper into him.

Draco's hand reached around, grabbing Harry's cock. He stroked it in rhythm to his thrusts. Harry could barely see the wall in front of him, and he had no clue how he was still standing up. Part of it probably had to do with the fact that Draco was helping support him. But each time he hit that spot, his world burst into flames all over again. He felt himself build up. His body tingled, and as if sensing it, Draco played over his head.

"So close..." Harry moaned. Draco's hand sped up again, working furiously. His thrusts became more erratic and forceful, and Harry suddenly felt his entire body explode. He convulsed, coating Draco's hand and the wall in front of him. Draco reached over, using a sticky hand to tilt Harry's head over and kissed him. Harry moaned and shuddered as Draco continued moving in and out. Harry's eyes opened and he saw Draco's filled with love and lust and fear. He suddenly gasped and his eyes widened. Harry felt something inside of him, and then Draco slumped a little before pulling out.

Harry turned around, kissing Draco madly. Their hands reached for each other faces, and they scratched at each other's faces, desperate to hold on. Harry tasted salt and felt Draco shudder underneath his touch and knew that the blond was crying. He pulled back to see fall apart, landing in a heap at Harry's feet.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Harry. I never meant to hurt you. But I love you so much. Oh, God, please don't leave me." He gasped for breath, and his eyes remained on the floor. "It's all my fault. How can you – I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He babbled on for a moment or two longer before Harry kneeled down as well. He wrapped his arms around Draco, clutching him too his chest and rocking back and forth.

"I'd never do that. You're mine – always."

He had no clue how long they lay there, but by the time Draco calmed down, Harry felt lightheaded and tired. Smiling, he pulled Draco up and placed another chaste kiss on his lips.

The door swung open and they heard a yelp. Sam stood there, staring them in shock.

"Alright, naked boys. Naked boys. I'm interrupting, clearly." As the door swung shut, she called out, "Just friends, huh?"

"Guess that didn't work out too well," Harry said, chuckling.

"I have to admit, I'm kind of glad, though." Harry ruffled Draco's hair and stood up, reaching for his clothes.

"Me too."

"Oh, and Harry..."

"Yeah?"

"You better not get used to wearing those clothes."

"Didn't plan on it."

* * *

><p><strong>Extended Author's Note<strong>: I know this story isn't really... ideal. There are a lot of mistakes, and it's a bit of an immature take on love. Especially the ending is rough and speedily put together. I hope it wasn't too much of a disappointment. I know I should have just uploaded the whole thing when I had it, but I wrote it all... quite a while ago. In fact, my first six or seven chaps were all written back in July of 2010. So, I was sixteen when I wrote pretty much the entire fic. I do want to say thank you for all your kind words, though. I know I've gotten lazy when it comes to replying to reviews, but I appreciate all your kind words, and I read every one of them.

Thanks, guys!


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